Safe In Your Arms
by autumnrose2010
Summary: The story of Anastasia's Uncle Michael and Aunt Natalya and their love for one another. Loosely based on a true story.
1. Rescue

**St. Petersburg, Russia, 1912**

"Where are you taking me?" asked Natalya.

"Somewhere where you'll be safe," Michael said tersely.

The fact that the man who had just rescued her from her savage beast of a husband was none other than the younger brother of the Tsar himself hadn't quite had time to fully register with Natalya yet. All she could think about was the look of rage that had been on her husband's face and the icy cold fear that that look had always generated inside her.

Michael got into the back seat of a car and motioned for Natalya to follow. Too frightened to ask any questions, Natalya complied. The car immediately took off in a direction Natalya didn't recognize.

"Please don't be afraid." In the dark Natalya couldn't see Michael's face, but she heard the compassion in his voice. "I promise, I'm not going to hurt you."

Natalya felt herself relax just a tiny bit. Michael's hand gently touched her arm.

"You're shivering! Are you cold?"

"No, no...I'm all right..." Natalya said through chattering teeth.

"We'll be at the station soon. They'll have blankets and hot drinks."

"I'm fine...really." Natalya's voice was barely a whisper.

At the station Michael wrapped a blanket around Natalya and brought her a cup of hot chocolate. "The train will be here in about fifteen minutes," he told her.

"Thank you for being so kind to me," she said.

"You deserve nothing less." In the dim light of the station she could see his face now, the warmth and concern in his light blue eyes, and to her amazement she realized that he truly _cared. _She felt an unexpected sob catch in her throat.

"Hey." Michael's voice was tender as he held her and let her rest her head on his shoulder. "It's all right. It's all right."

On the train Natalya lay covered with a blanket with Michael sitting beside her. "Sleep, now," he said, gently stroking her hair. "You need your rest."

"You need to rest, too," Natalya said.

Michael chuckled. "Oh, don't worry about _me."_

Natalya reflected back over the past few hours - her husband's tantrum, the unexpected rescue by Michael, their swift exodus. Overwhelmed, she began to cry softly.

"There, there. Everything's going to be all right." Michael continued to stroke Natalya's hair, and she felt his lips kiss her damp cheek ever so gently. Slowly she drifted to sleep, thinking about what a very long time it had been since she had been kissed by a man.

_A/N: Natalya's husband was a colonel in Michael's army. Michael suspected that the man had been abusing his wife, burst in on him when he was about to hit Natalya, knocked him senseless, and fled with Natalya while he was still out cold._


	2. Ride To Freedom

_He towered over her, the frying pan's handle clutched tightly in one fist. She huddled on the floor, terrified, her eyes sweeping frantically first left and then right, futilely searching for a way to escape. The frying pan came down, down..._

She awoke with a scream, and for a minute couldn't remember where she was and what had happened. Then she became aware of strong arms holding her, a soothing voice comforting her, and she remembered that she was with Michael and they were on a train.

"Don't be afraid, _malenkaya. _You're safe now, and everything's going to be all right." Michael held her and spoke softly to her until she felt herself begin to relax in his arms. Both of them eventually fell back to sleep that way.

The morning sunlight streaming through the windows awakened them a few hours later. Natalya blinked at the passing countryside in wonder.

"We're not in Russia anymore, are we?" she asked.

"No." Michael smiled. "We're far away from St. Petersburg. I have some friends in Vienna. You'll be safe there. He won't be able to find you."

"But why did you rescue me, Your Grace?"

Michael smiled. "Please, just call me Michael, or Misha, if you prefer. I rescued you because I knew that he had been abusing you and you're far too lovely a woman to have to take that kind of treatment."

"You're a very kind man, Your...Misha." She smiled shyly and blushed.

"Think nothing of it, _malenkaya. _As a member of Russia's royal family, it's my responsibility to protect and defend _all _its citizens."Michael smiled and gently touched her chin. "You are very beautiful, _malenkaya. _Much too beautiful to be with a brute like him."

"Thank you." Natalya's face was burning. She couldn't meet his eyes. "He was perfectly nice at first, handsome and charming. I was very young and didn't know anything. I feel for him head over heels. Everything was good for a while. Then he started drinking a lot, and...everything changed. Lots of times, when he was drunk, he would...hurt me. I wanted to get away from him, but I didn't know where to go."

"Well, all that's behind you now, Natalya. He'll never be able to hurt you again." He gazed at her hair and longed to touch it, but he was afraid that that would appear too forward.

"Have you never married yourself, then?"

He shook his head.

"Yet your brother had a bride brought in from Germany especially for him."

Michael laughed. "One of the perks of being the heir to the throne is that you get your bride chosen especially for you from amongst all the eligible European princesses. As for me, I'll just have to be happy with someone more local."

"Yet that isn't necessarily a bad thing, is it?"

He noticed the teasing lilt to her voice and laughed again. "Of course not!"

"Your nieces and nephew are absolutely adorable. I'd love to meet them someday."

"Thank you. I'm sure that you will."

"Yet I fear that your nephew has a serious health issue, does he not?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not at liberty to comment on that. It's a personal family matter."

"Of course. I apologize. I didn't mean to sound intrusive. I was only concerned."

"It's quite all right. I appreciate your concern."

Michael and Natalya were so busy talking that they almost forgot to get off at their stop.


	3. Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

"Natalya, meet my friends, Karl and Eva," Michael said. "You'll be safe with them until I return from Russia."

"Must you return to Russia right away?" Natalya was dismayed.

Michael nodded solemnly. "My troops need me, and my brother is counting on me. I'll return to you just as soon as I can."

Michael knew that Natalya was afraid, overwhelmed, alone in a foreign country amongst strangers. He embraced her tenderly and gently swept the hair back from her face. "Everything will be all right, _malenkaya. _Karl and Eva are good people. You can trust them."

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you as well." Michael smiled. "May I kiss you good-bye?"

"Of course, I'd like that."

He softly kissed her lips, and their noses touched slightly. He wished with all his might that he didn't have to leave right away.

"Take care, _malenkaya. _I'll be back soon, I promise."

Natalya watched him walk away with an aching heart. When he was almost to the corner she called to him and blew him a kiss. He laughed and caught it, then blew one back to her.

After Michael was gone, Natalya turned to look at Karl and Eva. Eva saw the fear in the young woman's eyes and hugged her tightly.

"Poor little thing," she said. "Look how skinny you are. I'll have you fattened up in no time."

"It's so kind of you to take me in," Natalya said. "I promise I'll try not to be a burden."

"Think nothing of it," Eva assured her. "Any friend of Michael's is a friend of ours as well."

Life in Karl and Eva's home soon settled into a comfortable routine. Natalya stayed in their guest bedroom, which was small but tidy and very comfortable. At night she lay alone in bed thinking of cuddling with Michael on the train and that helped her to get to sleep. Natalya helped Eva with cooking, cleaning, and laundry, and ran errands for her in town. She learned enough German to be able to communicate with store clerks reasonably well.

"You're so much help," Eva told her one day. "I'm glad Michael brought you to us."

"I'm happy to be able to help you any way I can," Natalya said with a smile. "I'm very grateful to Michael as well. He saved my life."

* * *

It was with very mixed feelings that Michael returned to Vienna several weeks later. He simply didn't know how to tell Natalya that the brute she had married was dead, that the wretched man had wrapped his car around a tree trunk while driving in a drunken stupor. For Michael himself there was only relief that the woman he was beginning to have very tender feelings for was safe at last, that her husband could never hurt her again. Yet how would Natalya herself react? Certainly she had loved the man at one time. Were there enough vestiges of love left in her heart that she would mourn his death in spite of everything?

Natalya saw Michael coming and her heart nearly burst with joy. Eagerly she rushed to meet him.

"Misha!"

"Natalya!"

He held her tightly and smothered her with kisses. Then he stepped back and took a good look at her.

"You look very well," he told her, pleased to see that there was now some color in her cheeks. She had looked so pale before.

"Thanks. So do you," she said.

He laughed, then grew serious. "Listen, Natalya, I have something very important to tell you. He has died."

She stared at him in surprise. _"Who _has died?"

"Your husband."


	4. Matters Of The Heart

_A/N: This chapter includes a nod to a line from the movie 'Anastasia.' See if you can find it. :)_

Natalya gasped and blanched. Michael reached to steady her in case she slumped.

"Then I must return to Russia right away to make arrangements." Her voice was almost a whisper.

"That won't be necessary. Everything's already been taken care of," Michael quickly assured her.

"How did it happen?"

"He was driving drunk and hit a tree."

"Oh my God." Natalya began to sob quietly. Michael embraced her and stroked her hair. "Everything's going to be all right," he murmured.

She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "Whatever shall I do?" she asked forlornly.

"Marry me, Natalya." Gently Michael swept the hair back from her face with the fingers of one hand. "I love you, _malenkaya." _To him she looked as fragile as a baby bird with a broken wing. How he longed to sweep her up into his arms, to whisk her into his bedroom and lavish her with kisses and caresses, but he knew that he would have to be patient.

"Please don't be afraid," he gently urged her. "I'm not like him at all. I'd never lift a finger to hurt you in any way."

"I believe you, Michael," she said. "And I love you as well. But what would your family say? Grand Dukes don't marry commoners."

"Once they get to know you, they'll love you just as I do."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm certain they will."

She smiled. "Let's do it, then."

They headed for the courthouse. Luckily, the judge wasn't terribly busy that day, and they only had to wait a couple of hours until he was free to perform the ceremony. Karl and Eva were, of course, happy to stand in as witnesses.

The newlyweds spent one last night in Karl and Eva's home before beginning the long train ride back to Russia. Michael gallantly told Natalya to take the small bed while he slept on the floor. She knew that it would be of no use to try to argue him out of it; however, she found that she was unable to sleep with the knowledge that Michael lay on the cold, hard, uncomfortable floor. Finally she got out of bed and, taking care not to awaken him, lay beside him on the floor. Right away she felt his arms enclose her and hug her tightly to his body. They fell asleep like that, cuddled together on the floor.

Natalya felt genuinely sad to leave Karl and Eva the following day. She had come to love her benefactors almost as surrogate parents and knew that she would miss them.

"I can't thank you enough for the kindness you've shown me," she told them as she embraced them both.

"We were more than happy to help. As I said before, any friend of Michael's is a friend of mine," said Eva.

On the train that morning, Natalya watched the passing scenery and thought about how very different her return trip was from her previous flight from Russia. On her last train ride, she had felt scared, helpless, and desperate. On this trip she was excited, eager, and happy; looking forward to sharing her life with the man she loved.

That night they returned to the bunks in the Pullman car. Natalya smiled bashfully as she timidly tugged at Michael's clothing. He took her hands in both his own, smiling gently.

"Not on a train, my love. I want our first time to be special. Don't you?"

Natalya giggled. "You are _so _romantic!"

Michael laughed. "You'll find, darling, that that's only one of my many charms."

Natalya's arms went around his neck, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Let's just cuddle, then."

Michael chuckled. "You are so very cuddly, my love."

"So are you," she told him.

The gentle rocking of the train put them both to sleep within minutes.


	5. Passion Fulfilled

Natalya awakened the next morning to the sensation of Michael gently kissing her face and saw to her surprise that they had already reached the train station in St. Petersburg.

"Big day ahead today." Michael winked at her.

"God, Michael, I'm just _so _nervous," Natalya said.

"You'll do fine," her husband assured her.

On the way to the Winter Palace, Natalya tried to hide her nervousness with a smile and light chatter. Michael smiled knowingly at her and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze.

At last they were standing before Tsar Nicholas II and Tsarina Alexandra. Natalya's heart was in her throat.

"May I present my wife, Natalya," Michael said to his brother and sister-in-law.

Nicholas nodded curtly, his expression somber.

"It's wonderful to meet you, dear." Alexandra smiled warmly at Natalya, who smiled back.

"And these are your new nieces and nephew," Michael continued proudly. He introduced them one at a time.

"His Imperial Highness the Tsarevich Alexei." The little boy grinned shyly at Natalya, who had a sudden urge to ruffle his hair but knew that she didn't dare.

"Her Imperial Highness the Grand Duchess Olga."

"Hello," said the tallest girl with a pleasant smile.

"Her Imperial Highness the Grand Duchess Tatiana."

"How do you do," said Tatiana.

"Her Imperial Highness the Grand Duchess Maria."

"It's so nice to meet you, Aunt Natalya." Maria smiled warmly. Natalya thought she looked kind.

"Her Imperial Highness the Grand Duchess Anastasia."

"Hello, Aunt..." Before she could say anything more Anastasia sneezed mightily.

"Never turn your back on her," Michael whispered confidentially to Natalya as soon as they were out of earshot.

"They're such lovely children," Natalya said to Michael much later, when they were alone. "Meeting them makes me yearn to be a mother so very badly."

Michael smiled. "If you don't mind a personal question, why didn't you and Vladimir ever have children?"

"I don't know." Natalya sighed. "It just never happened, and as it turned out, if was for the best anyway. Michael...the medical condition from which your nephew suffers, is there a chance that it could also affect our future children?"

Michael sighed heavily, seeming unsure how to answer. "He has hemophilia, Natalya. It _is _inherited, but it's on Alexandra's side, not Nicholas', so no, it wouldn't affect our children."

"I'm so very sorry," said Natalya.

"We all are." Michael looked glum. "God forbid, but if anything were to happen to Alexei, I would be the next Tsar after Nicholas, if I outlived him."

"You certainly don't look very happy about that."

"Being the ruler over all of Russia is a tremendous responsibility. I honestly don't know how my brother does it sometimes."

Natalya was thoughtful. "What about Olga?" she asked.

"No female may ever rule over Russia. The law is very strict about that."

"But what about England? They had Queen Victoria," Natalya pointed out.

"Russia's law of succession is different from that of England," Michael explained patiently. "I've often heard my mother say that she thinks that I would have made a better Tsar than Nicholas, that I'm more determined and decisive, more like our father."

"Do you think she's right?"

Michael shrugged. "Who knows?" Then he grinned cheekily. "Right now I've got other things on my mind."

* * *

Natalya giggled. Michael picked her up, carried her to the bed, and began to shower her with kisses as he had wanted so badly to do before. She lay back and basked in his caresses, her hands gently roaming all over his body. She grabbed his shirt and gently tugged it out of his pants, and he quickly removed it, then reached to unfasten her dress. Within seconds they were both clad only in their underwear.

Natalya began to moan as she felt Michael's lips stimulating her nipples through the material of her bra. He laughed at the rapidity with which she shed it. By now he was fully aroused himself, and Natalya's hand cupped his hardness, the material of his underwear being the only thing between them. Michael quickly removed Natalya's panties, and his fingers began to softly stroke the delicate skin of her most intimate parts, driving her nearly crazy with pleasure. She gasped with shock and delight when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, using his tongue and lips to drive her nearly over the edge, but not quite. When she thought that she could stand it no longer, Michael shed his own underwear, and she eagerly reached for him, gently stroking him as he had stroked her.

"That's about enough of that," he chuckled softly a few seconds later. "You don't want it to be over with before it even starts, do you?"

She gasped as he entered her, and almost immediately felt a sensation that was so delightful there were no words to describe it. She cried out and thrust madly against him, and within seconds he was groaning as well. They clung to one another in ecstasy, so caught up in the euphoria of their mutual release that the world seemed to have stopped turning for a few moments.

"Oh. My. God." Natalya was near tears. "That's the most incredible thing I've ever experienced."

"So did I satisfy you?" He grinned saucily.

"Oh, Michael." Now she really was sobbing, very quietly. He began to cover her face with gentle kisses. "What just happened to me...that was the first time I ever felt anything like that in my life."

_"Ever?" _He raised himself up on one elbow and stared at her, dumbfounded. Yet knowing the kind of man Vladimir Wulfert had been, why should he be surprised?

"Ever," she said softly.

He was almost too deeply touched for words. "Natalya, _moya dragatsyennaya," _he whispered, laughing as she vainly attempted to stifle a yawn. "Poor baby. You've had a long day, haven't you? Get some rest now."

She cuddled up against him and closed her eyes contentedly. She knew that she was going to rest very well that night.


	6. Confrontation

The next morning Natalya woke up alone in bed. She was at first disappointed not to feel Michael's arms around her but soon became aware of delicious smells wafting into the bedroom, followed by her beaming husband carrying a tray full of food.

"Breakfast in bed? Oh, Michael!" she cried with surprise and delight.

"You'd best get used to being spoiled and pampered, because it's going to be happening a lot from now on." Michael sat the tray down and gave his wife a hug and kiss before joining her on the bed.

"Michael, will you do something for me?" Natalya asked as they were eating.

"My dear, I'll do _anything _for you!"

"Will you take me to the place where he's buried?"

Michael's smile vanished and he became very quiet. "Of course I will," he said softly.

A soft rain fell as they approached Vladimir Wulfert's grave. Natalya knelt and placed the flowers she had brought on the stone marker.

"Good-bye, Vladimir. I hope that you've found peace at last," she said as she crossed herself.

_Even after everything you did to her she still brought you flowers. You didn't deserve her, _Michael thought bitterly as he stared dolefully at the name on the marker. Natalya stood, and he quietly led her away from the grave.

"Being in a cemetary always makes me think of George," Michael told his wife.

"How did he die?"

"He had tuberculosis. One day he was riding his motorcycle out in the country and collapsed by the side of the road. A peasant woman found him with blood coming out of his mouth. Except for her he was all alone when he died."

Natalya shuddered. "How horrible!"

"We were very close," Michael said softly.

"Were you closer to George than to Nicholas?"

"Nicky was the oldest, so George was closer to my age. He was so funny, always cracking jokes. Nicky used to write down the funny things he would say and put them in a box. He still has the box. Sometimes when he's alone he likes to look through it and laugh at all George's jokes."

"That's wonderful that he has something to remember him by," Natalya said.

"If we ever have a son, I'd like to name him George, if that's all right with you," said Michael.

"That's fine with me," said Natalya.

"We had another brother as well, born a year after Nicky," Michael continued. "He was named Alexander for our father. He died of meningitis when he was not quite a year old."

"How sad for your poor mother, to lose two sons in such tragic ways," Natalya said softly.

"Yes." Michael sighed heavily. "She still grieves deeply for them both. And you know what? You're the first person I've ever told about Alexander. Almost everyone simply assumes that I've only ever had two brothers and two sisters."

"It must be a very painful subject for the whole family," Natalya replied.

Michael nodded, thinking about what a sensitive nature his new wife had. It was one of the things he loved most about her.

Later, Natalya was working in the garden at Brasovo when Michael was visited by his brother, the Tsar. She had gone back inside in search of a tool when she heard raised voices and stood absolutely motionless, listening intently.

"What on earth did you think you were doing, running off to Austria to elope with a commoner?" Nicholas asked his brother.

"Natalya may not be royalty, but she has a heart of gold. I couldn't love her more if she were the daughter of a king...or a tsar," Michael replied.

"She's been married before, so you know she isn't a virgin. For all you know she could even be carrying Wulfert's child," Nicholas said coldly.

"I loved her enough that I was willing to take that chance," Michael told him.

"As your marriage took place outside Russia, I cannot recognize it," Nicholas said. "Any children you have will be considered illegitimate."

"That doesn't have to be a problem, as we can simply have a second ceremony here in St. Petersberg," Michael replied.

"If you do, then I shall remove you from the line of succession and banish you from our beloved country in disgrace," Nicholas said somberly. "Really, Michael, I'm very disappointed in you. I thought that you were far too clever and sensible to fall for feminine wiles."

"You have Natalya all wrong. She's not that type of woman at all," Michael protested. He watched forlornly as his brother departed.

In her hiding place, Natalya sobbed quietly. She wouldn't blame her new husband if he hated her. She almost wished she'd never met him.

Shortly afterwards she felt Michael's arms around her and looked up at him with eyes swimming with tears.

"You heard every word of that, I suppose," he said flatly.

"Oh, Michael, I'm so sorry," Natalya wailed. "The last thing in the world I wanted to do was to come between you and your brother."

"It's going to be all right," Michael said soothingly, rubbing his wife's back. "Nicholas is a good man at heart. When he gets to know you better, he'll come around and accept you."

"It was so very kind of him to allow us to live here at Brosovo. I was so badly hoping that I could win him and the rest of the family over," Natalya told her husband.

"You will, someday," Michael assured her with a smile. "Just give it some time."

Neither of them knew how quickly one of Nicholas' remarks would come back to haunt them both.


	7. An Old Flame

"Are you sure you're all right? You look a little pale to me," Michael said to his wife one morning several weeks after they were married.

"I'm fine." Natalya smiled bravely as she began to prepare breakfast. She was buttering a piece of toast when her stomach suddenly felt funny. She made it to the bathroom just in time.

Michael heard her and rushed down the hallway to the bathroom, where he found Natalya sprawled on the floor, still heaving.

"Tasha!" He knelt beside her and gently wiped her face with a cool, damp cloth.

"I don't know what happened," Natalya said weakly. "I didn't even feel sick before, and I haven't eaten anything unusual lately."

"Come on back to bed," Michael gently urged her. He helped her to stand and helped her back into the bedroom and to bed, where she sank beneath the soft sheets gratefully. She slept for a good part of that morning.

Natalya felt poorly for the next several days in a row, and Michael, deeply worried, took his wife to the doctor.

"You're perfectly healthy," the doctor told her with a smile. "The symptoms you are experiencing are perfectly normal for a woman who's in the early stages of pregnancy. You're going to have a baby in about eight months."

Natalya was on top of the world. She couldn't wait to tell Michael.

"Oh, Michael, we're going to be parents!" she exclaimed as soon as she saw him.

"That's wonderful news!" Michael embraced his wife tightly and kissed her. "I have to admit I'm surprised it happened this fast, but I'm really glad it did."

"So am I," Natalya murmured from the warmth of his arms.

The first few weeks of the pregnancy were a very special time for Michael and Natalya. Although Natalya was tired and queasy much of the time, they were both so happy and excited that she barely noticed the discomfort.

The only thing that marred their happiness was the disapproval of Michael's family, especially his mother and brother. Although no one was ever overtly cruel to Natalya, she felt the rejection in small ways such as their refusal to invite her to parties and other affairs at the Winter Palace, and it stung bitterly. Michael generally refused to attend such functions as well, unless his presence was sorely needed for some reason.

By her fourth month, Natalya felt much better physically, and her pregnancy was beginning to show as well. One day she and Michael were going for a stroll in the park when they almost bumped right into another couple, literally. The man looked very surprised to see Natalya, but he recovered quickly and smiled. "Natalya!"

"Sergei!" she exclaimed. "It's been ages, hasn't it?"

"Forever," Sergei chuckled. "This is my wife Elena, my son Boris, and my daughter Anya." Boris was about four and Anya was about two.

"This is my husband, Michael. This is Sergei Mamontov," Natalya said.

"Natalya and I were once engaged," Sergei added. Michael glanced at Natalya with surprise.

"It's true," she whispered. She smiled at Elena. "Your children are adorable!" she exclaimed.

"Thank you," said Elena. "I see that you're going to have one of your own soon as well."

"Five more months." Natalya put her hand on her swollen belly. "I'm so happy to see that you have such a lovely family, Sergei," she said to her former fiance, who smiled generously in return.

"He's a very good, kind man," Natalya told Michael after Sergei and his family had gone. "I left him for Vladimir because I thought he was too boring." Her voice was heavy with regret.

"I see," Michael said gently.

"I can't begin to tell you how many times I regretted that decision," Natalya continued softly. "I'm so glad to see that he has a happy marriage and a beautiful family now. He deserves it, and I thank God every day that I met you, Michael, so I got another chance at happiness as well, whether I deserved it or not."

"Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself." Michael stopped walking to gently cup his wife's face in his hands and kiss her lips. "We all make mistakes."

"Marrying Vladimir Wulfert was a _big _one," she mumbled.

"But that's all behind you now," Michael reminded her. "We have all the rest of our lives to be happy together."

"I love you, Michael." Natalya wrapped her arms tightly around her husband's body and buried her face in his chest.

"I love you too, darling." Michael stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. "It's all right. Everything's going to be just fine."


	8. A Visit From Anastasia

At Natalya's next doctor's appointment, the physician seemed surprised at both the increase in her waist measurement and her weight gain.

"I believe I may have been mistaken about how far along you are," he told her. "It appears that you may be a month further along than I previously thought. Was there anything unusual about your last monthly cycle?"

Natalya struggled to remember. "Come to think of it, it was much lighter than usual. Really just some spotting."

The physician nodded knowingly. "That frequently happens in early pregnancy, when the hormone level may not yet be high enough to completely stop the monthly cycle."

Later it hit Natalya like a ton of bricks. _If I'm really one month further along than I thought, then the child I'm carrying isn't Michael's at all - it's Vladimir's!_

Michael returned home to find his wife sitting on the sofa, sobbing her heart out. He sat beside her and took her into his arms.

"What's the matter, darling? Is something wrong with the baby?" He knew that she had had a doctor's appointment that morning and feared the worst.

Natalya shook her head, and a wave of relief washed over him.

"The doctor...said that I might actually be a month further along than he thought," she sobbed.

"Is that _all?" _Michael was puzzled.

"Misha, don't you see? If I'm a month further along than the doctor thinks I am, then that means that the baby is really Vladimir's!"

"But he doesn't know for _sure _that you're really a month further along," Michael said. "And even if you are, it doesn't matter. We'll still love the baby just the same."

"But it wouldn't be fair to expect you to raise another man's child," Natalya objected.

"Regardless of whose blood it has, I'll love it because it's a part of you," Michael said gently.

"Oh, Michael." Natalya's arms went around her husband's neck to hug him tightly, and he held her and comforted her.

One evening Michael took his two younger nieces, Maria and Anastasia - known to the family as the 'Little Pair' - ice skating. When he returned home Anastasia accompanied him.

"Nastya wanted to visit," he explained.

"Hello, darling." Natalya smiled. "It's lovely to see you again."

"Hi, Aunt Natalya." Anastasia smiled politely, her eyes wandering to Natalya's swollen belly. "How's my new little cousin doing?"

"Growing every day." Natalya laughed. "Would you like to feel the baby move?"

Anastasia's eyes grew round, and she nodded. Natalya placed the girl's hand on her belly, and within moments the baby kicked.

"Wow!" Anastasia grinned. "I was only three when Alexei was born, so I don't remember much about when Mama was pregnant with him. It'll be so nice to have a tiny baby in the family again. I wonder whether it's a boy or a girl."

"Which would you like it to be?" asked Michael.

Anastasia thought for a moment. "Well, since it's your first baby, I guess it'll be nice if it's a boy. What do you think, Uncle Misha?"

"I'll be perfectly happy with either, as long as it's healthy," Michael told her.

Although Natalya felt very sad at the thought that her baby might not be Anastasia's cousin after all, she tried to act as if nothing were amiss for the sake of her husband and niece.

"Please, Misha, promise me you won't say anything to the Tsar about the possibility that the baby might really be Vladimir's," Natalya begged her husband later.

"Of course I won't," Michael assured her. He didn't tell her that Nicholas had already mentioned the exact same thing to him only a day or two before.


	9. Natalya's Baby

As Natalya's pregnancy advanced, she began to feel very awkward and ungainly. Although Michael assured her that she was more beautiful than ever to him, she still worried that she was now less attractive. She also began to experience frequent backaches. Michael gave her many back massages to help ease her discomfort, and she was very grateful to him.

Natalya began to feel that she'd been pregnant forever. Her feet and hands became swollen, and she began to have false contractions. One evening the contractions felt different, more intense and even a bit painful. Then Natalya felt a sudden gush of warm water soak her clothing and knew that she was truly in labor.

Michael quickly drove his wife to the hospital, where she was placed in a wheelchair and taken to a room with an uncomfortable-looking bed and various rather frightening-looking instruments.

Right away the doctor told Michael that he'd have to stay in the waiting room, then told Natalya to remove all her clothing and gave her a gown that barely covered any part of her body. Self-conscious, Natalya struggled to arrange the gown to cover one body part, only to leave another exposed.

"Please lie on the bed so that I can examine you," the doctor told her. Natalya lay back on the bed, which proved to be every bit as uncomfortable as it looked, and spread her legs as the doctor told her to. Feeling very embarrassed and vulnerable, she winced as she felt the doctor's cold fingers slide into her.

"You've got a ways to go," the doctor told her before disappearing into the hallway.

Presently a nurse appeared. "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?" the nurse asked. She sounded much kinder than the doctor had.

"Please, can you send my husband in to see me?" Natalya begged her.

"I'm sorry, but that's against hospital regulations," the nurse replied. She drew blood from Natalya's arm, then gave her a shot that she said would lessen the pain. The shot made Natalya feel woozy and made her mouth feel very dry.

The contractions became more intense, and in between them, Natalya drifted in and out of awareness. At some point the doctor reappeared and examined her once again.

"It won't be much longer now," he announced.

Suddenly the contractions became unbearable. Wave after wave of pain crashed over Natalya until she felt that she simply couldn't take it anymore. Somewhere in the background, a voice was telling her to push. She did and the pain lessened significantly. Over and over again she pushed with all her might, then felt a burning and tearing sensation, and suddenly the pain had disappeared.

"It's a girl!" the doctor announced. A moment later, Natalya heard the newborn crying. It sounded just like the bleating of a baby lamb.

_Oh, Michael. _Tears came to Natalya's eyes as she longed for her husband more than she ever had before, and then all of a sudden there he was, grinning ear to ear and looking at her with eyes full of love.

"Hello there, little mother."

"Michael." She reached for him, and he embraced her tightly. "I needed you so badly."

"I wanted to be with you too, sweetheart, but they told me it was against hospital regulations, and this place is so well guarded that I knew it would be useless to protest." Gently he rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head.

"Six pounds, five ounces," announced the nurse as she lifted the baby from the scale and wrapped her in a blanket. A little small, but still well within the weight range of a normal full-term newborn. It was now exactly eight months and one week since Natalya had married Michael. She felt the touch of an icy finger on her spine and was afraid to look Michael in the eye.

"Well, aren't you gorgeous." The nurse had handed the baby to Michael, who held her lovingly and spoke gently to her. When Natalya looked into the tiny face, she felt such an overwhelming love for her newborn daughter that all doubts and fears vanished.

"I was thinking that perhaps we could name her Natalya after her mother and call her Tata," Michael suggested.

"If it's all right with you, I'd like to name her Michaela," Natalya said, a bit hesitantly.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to argue with _that_." Michael chuckled. "Thank you, my dear. I'm deeply honored."


	10. Anastasia's Card

Natalya eagerly searched the face of her newborn daughter for traces of Michael's features. She glanced back and forth between her husband and the baby, comparing their noses, their chins, their earlobes.

"What on earth are you doing?" Michael chuckled.

"Let me see your hand," Natalya asked him, carefully inspecting one of Michaela's.

"Mine's just a tad bigger," Michael joked.

"I think she has your fingers," Natalya said.

"So she does," Michael replied cheerfully. "And she has your eyes and mouth."

Natalya smiled, relieved.

"What, are you afraid she might look more like me than you?" Michael asked in jest.

Natalya shook her head. "You know what I'm afraid of," she said softly.

"And there's no reason for you to be afraid at all, as I've already told you that we will love her just the same regardless." Michael's voice was full of tenderness as he embraced his wife and kissed her cheek.

"I love you so much, Misha." Natalya sighed with contentment and happiness as she rested her head on her husband's shoulder.

"I love you too, Tasha. Both of you," Michael said. Just then Michaela yawned. "Isn't that sweet!" Michael exclaimed.

_"You're _sweet." Natalya laughed softly and kissed her husband's lips.

On the day Natalya and Michaela were to leave the hospital, Natalya wrapped the newborn up snugly.

"Do you think she'll be warm enough?" she asked Michael.

"She'll be fine," he said with a smile. He had been by her side almost constantly since the baby had been born, returning home only for meals and at night.

"What's wrong, Misha?" Natalya asked a few minutes later, disturbed by the sour look on her husband's face.

"It wouldn't have killed them to visit just once, even if only for a few minutes." Natalya heard the hurt in Michael's voice and felt very sad.

"I wasn't really expecting them to," she said softly. "I know how they feel about me, and in a way, it's understandable. I'm not royalty, and I wasn't even a virgin." She knew that there was no need for her to repeat what was uppermost in her mind.

"But it isn't fair!" Michael insisted. "Michaela's an innocent baby. She shouldn't have to pay for...for..."

"You shouldn't have to pay either, Misha." Natalya laid a comforting hand on his arm.

"Neither should you." Michael sighed. "If only they could see you as I do."

"They will some day, Misha. I know they will."

"Of _course _they will. They'll _have _to." Suddenly in a good mood again, Michael smiled and embraced his wife, then walked with her to the car.

Michaela slept for most of the first day and woke up crying several times during the night. Natalya's breasts became very sore and painful, so much so that she winced every time the baby latched on. Even after repeated feedings, Michaela was difficult to settle, and Michael spent many hours walking the floor trying to shush her so that his exhausted wife could get some rest.

Several days after the family had come back home, Michael checked the mail and found a card from Anastasia. On the front was a picture of a sleeping baby, and on the inside Anastasia had written a message. 'For my new cousin, Michaela. From Anastasia with all my love.'

"It's beautiful!" Natalya was deeply touched. "She's such a sweet girl."

"Yes, she is," Michael agreed. "I'm so happy that at least one member of my family accepts you and Michaela."


	11. World At War

**August 1914**

"We are at war," Michael glumly told Natalya. "The Masurian Lakes and Tannenburg have already fallen."

"Oh, no!" Natalya went to her husband, and they embraced.

"My brother is going to the Eastern Front to lead our troops into victory, and I shall accompany him," Michael continued.

"Oh, Mischa, you can't!" Natalya protested. "What about me and Micky?" Her daughter was now an active toddler. Natalya fervently searched her face daily for resemblances to Michael and, to her disappointment, never seemed to find any definite ones. _Well, at least she doesn't strongly resemble Vladimir either, _Natalya comforted herself.

"I've arranged for you and Micky to stay at the palace with Alexandra and the royal children," Michael told her. "I don't feel that it's safe for the two of you to remain here at Brosovo."

"But they hate me!" Natalya exclaimed.

"They don't hate you," Michael said quietly.

"They _do, _Mischa!"

"I'm sorry, Tasha." Michael sighed. "If I could think of any other way..." He looked at his wife helplessly.

"Must you really join the Tsar at the front?"

"Nicky's counting on me, Tasha. I can't let him down." Michael took his wife into his arms and comforted her. "Everything will be fine. The war will soon be over and I'll be back home with you and Micky."

* * *

Natalya stood with the royal family holding little Michaela's hand as they all saw the Tsar and his brother off to war. It was the hardest thing Natalya had ever had to do. As she clung to Michael, she felt as if she'd never see him again.

"Papa!" Michaela cried, holding her arms up to Michael.

"Papa has to go fight some Germans, but he'll be home again real soon." Michael picked the little girl up and kissed her cheek, and she beamed. Natalya's heart melted as she watched them.

"Hi, Micky!" said Anastasia. "I'm your cousin Nastya, and you're going to be living with us now."

"We don't know for _sure_ that she's our cousin," Olga remarked.

"Why, of course she is!" Maria exclaimed. She took one of Michaela's hands, and Anastasia took the other.

"I'll show you to your quarters," Alexandra said coolly. Obediently, Natalya followed the Tsarina back into the palace.

The room in which Natalya and her daughter were to stay turned out to be very lavish and to contain everything they could conceivably need, but Natalya already missed Michael sorely. He'd promised to write on a regular basis, but Natalya knew he'd be so busy fighting that she didn't see how he'd actually have the time.

Michaela didn't sleep well at all that first night in the palace. It seemed to take much longer than it usually did to get her to sleep, and Natalya was almost asleep herself by the time the little girl finally dropped off.

"Papa! Papa!" Michaela cried a couple of hours later, waking her mother from a sound sleep.

"Sh. It's all right, sweetheart," Natalya soothed her daughter.

"Micky want Papa!" the little girl cried.

"You'll see him again real soon," her mother told her.

"No! Micky want Papa _now!" _Sensing a temper tantrum coming on, Natalya held her daughter tightly and comforted her as the little girl screamed and kicked.

* * *

Several days later, Natalya and Michaela were outside with the royal children enjoying the fresh air and sunshine when Natalya suddenly saw what appeared to be an unmanned cart whizzing down the street on a downhill slope, picking up momentum as it sped along. What happened next occurred very quickly. As Natalya watched Alexei begin to cross the street, it became obvious that his path would intersect that of the cart. There wasn't even time to scream a warning as Natalya's feet, seemingly of their own accord, sprang into motion. She reached the Tsarevich and pushed him out of the way in just the nick of time, only to collide with the cart herself. She felt a tremendous jolt, and then everything went black.


	12. Home For Christmas

Natalya opened her eyes to find that she was lying in her bed, and that the court physician, Dr. Botkin, was sitting beside her.

"Micky..." she said weakly.

"Your little girl is fine," Dr. Botkin assured her. "Olga and Tatiana are taking care of her. You're one lucky young woman, Natalya, as you received only a concussion and some bad bruises. It could have been much worse. The little one inside you is fine as well."

"What?"

"You're about two months pregnant, Natalya. Congratulations."

Despite the circumstances, a feeling of joy flooded Natalya's soul. This time she was _sure _that the baby was Michael's. She couldn't wait to tell him that he was to become a father, possibly for the first time.

Alexandra stopped by to visit Natalya when she learned that the other woman was awake.

"I don't know how to thank you, Tasha," she said. "You saved Alexei's life. If the cart had hit him, he surely would have been killed."

"It's all right," said Natalya, thrilled with Alexandra's changed attitude toward her. "He's my nephew, and I love him."

"I hear he's to have another new cousin soon, and I'm to be an aunt again." She smilingly patted Natalya's abdomen, and what made Natalya even happier was the implication that her daughter would now be fully accepted as a member of the royal family.

Reports flowed in regularly from the front lines of battle. On August 25, Nicholas' Fourth Army was defeated by the Austro-Hungarian First Army led by Conrad von Hotzendorf and Viktor Dankl at Krosnik. Alexandra and Natalya mourned the loss of twenty thousand soldiers' lives but rejoiced that Nicholas and Michael had been spared. Happier news arrived almost a month later, on September 11, when the Austro-Hungarians were defeated and forced out of Galicia and Lemberg was captured.

Alexandra, Olga, and Tatiana completed training as Red Cross nurses and went to work at the Catherine Palace, which had been turned into a hospital for wounded soldiers, so most days Natalya was left with only Maria, Anastasia, Alexei, Michaela, and the various servants for company. Anastasia kept everyone amused with her mischievous pranks, and Alexei played for them on the balalaika, but Natalya's heart still ached for Michael. To her it felt like forever since she'd seen his face or heard his voice. As their child grew within her body, she longed to be able to share the experience with him.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Anastasia rushed into Natalya's chambers, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Papa and Uncle Mischa are on their way home right now! They'll be here soon!" she cried. "We're all going to the station to meet them!"

At the railway station, Natalya waited impatiently with the rest of the family for Nicholas and Michael to emerge from the train. At last they did, heavily bundled but looking happy.

"Mischa!" Natalya cried.

"Tasha, my darling!" Michael laughed with joy as he embraced his wife.

"Papa! Papa!" little Michaela shouted, jumping up and down excitedly. Michael picked her up and kissed her cheek, and held her all the way home.

Natalya waited until they were back inside the palace to tell him.

"Great news, Mischa!" she exclaimed. "You're going to be a father! This time it's for sure!"

Michael looked startled for just a minute, then grinned the biggest grin she'd ever seen from him. "Oh, Tasha," he said in a voice that was barely a whisper as he caressed her abdomen. Then he laughed with joy and embraced her.

"I can't begin to tell you how happy I am that you're having my baby," he murmured. Then he scooped Michaela up into his arms. "Guess what, Micky? You're going to be a big sister!" The little girl, too young to understand, chortled with glee.

That night Michael made love to Natalya very gently because of her pregnancy. Afterwards they cuddled in bed and talked.

"I'm so glad to see that your relationship with the Tsarina is so much better now," Michael told Natalya.

"It began after something that happened several months ago," Natalya said. She told him of the incident in which she'd pushed Alexei out of the way of the cart only to be struck by it herself. Michael's eyes grew round with surprise and fright.

"Oh, Tasha, I'm so relieved that you're both all right!" he exclaimed. "You're such a brave woman, my love. You saved not only Alexei, but the future of Russia as well."

"I'm just so glad I was there," Natalya replied. "I shudder to think what might have happened if I hadn't been."

"So do I," Michael told her. "And Natalya, I couldn't love Micky any more than I already do even if I _knew _that she was really mine."

"I know that, Mischa," Natalya said. "You're such a wonderful man. I simply can't believe how lucky I was to find you."

Michael laughed. "Oh, _I'm _the lucky one." He kissed the tip of his wife's nose. "Go to sleep now, my love."

"But I don't _want _to go to sleep," Natalya pretended to pout. "I want to stay awake and talk to you. It's been so long..." She yawned mightily.

Michael chuckled softly. "Go to sleep, darling. I'll still be here when you wake up, I promise."


	13. Hellos and Goodbyes

Natalya awakened to find herself in Michael's arms, sighed contentedly, and snuggled more closely.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Michael laughed and kissed the tip of her nose.

"I can't believe you're really here," Natalya mumbled with a luxurious yawn.

"Happy Christmas, sweetheart. I love you." Michael kissed his wife's lips.

"Happy Christmas." Natalya's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Now, let me show you how much _I _love _you." _Natalya gently moved the quilt aside and slowly left a trail of soft kisses straight down her husband's chest, taking time to lightly tease his nipples with her fingers. She continued all the way down to his belly button, then lower. He gasped as she took him into her mouth, then lightly caressed her hair and moaned softly as she pleasured him with her lips and tongue.

"Come here, you," he said affectionately when she was finished. She laid her head on his belly as he continued to stroke her hair. "I enjoyed that very much. Thank you."

"Mama!" called Michaela from the adjoining room.

"I'll get her." Michael quickly dressed, went into the adjoining room, and returned carrying the little girl.

"Micky!" Natalya held her hands out to her daughter. Michaela reached for her, and she held the little girl tightly, relishing in her sweet warmth.

"Happy Christmas, darling," Natalya said.

"Happy Christmas, Mama!" Michaela cried joyfully. "Papa's home!"

"That's right. Papa's home now, and he's here to stay." Michael grinned and hugged the little girl and kissed her cheek.

It was almost with reluctance that they went to join the rest of the family for the Christmas celebration.

* * *

With Nicholas and Michael home, time seemed to pass very swiftly. In February Natalya said good-bye to her husband once again as he left to return to the Eastern Front.

"Take good care of yourself and Micky, and the little one." Michael bent to kiss his wife's swollen belly. "Until you're in my arms again, I'll keep you in my heart always."

"Oh, Mischa, I hope you're back in time for the baby's birth!"

"I hope so too." Michael smiled a bit sadly and patted Natalya's belly. He knew that he could give no promises.

Alexandra, Olga, and Tatiana returned to their nursing jobs at the hospital. Natalya passed her days knitting and crocheting tiny blankets and hats and booties and playing with Michaela. Nicholas' troops suffered a crushing defeat at the Second Battle of the Masurian Lakes but bravely stood their ground and refused to back out of the war.

Nicholas and Michael returned home for Easter. They stayed only a few days and then had to return. Natalya dearly hoped that her baby would be born while they were still home, but that didn't happen.

A major victory was won on March 22 when the fortress at Przemysl was captured. Alexandra and Natalya rejoiced.

Natalya was sitting in the Mauve Room with Alexandra when she went into labor. She put down her knitting and clutched her abdomen. "It's time," she said.

Attendants helped her back to her chambers, and Dr. Botkin was sent for. He arrived quickly and examined Natalya.

"The little one will be here in a few hours," he told her.

Natalya waited through several hours of contractions, wishing with all her might that Michael could be there with her, but knowing how important it was that he be there to support the troops. Late that night she felt the strong contractions signalling that the birth was imminent. After a few strong pushes, the baby slid out of her body and into Dr. Botkin's waiting hands.

"It's a boy!" he announced. An attendant cleaned and swaddled the baby and laid him in his mother's arms.

The first time Natalya looked into her newborn son's face, she was astounded by how strongly he resembled Michael. Much more so than his sister had at birth. _If she, in fact, resembled him at all..._Natalya struggled to push the unwelcome thought from her mind.

The following day, Natalya received a very unexpected visit from her mother-in-law, the Dowager Empress.

"Oh, he's adorable!" the Dowager Empress gushed as she lifted the baby from his crib. He squirmed and fussed in protest, but his grandmother quickly shushed him.

"His name is George," Natalya said shyly.

"What a gorgeous baby you are!" the Dowager Empress told her new grandson. "You look just like your Papa!"

"He really does," Natalya agreed.

"You did well, my darling," the Dowager Empress told her.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Natalya replied. The Dowager Empress visited with little George a bit longer. After she'd left, Natalya felt very sad that she'd never shown an ounce of enthusiasm for little Michaela.


	14. A Very Unsettled Feeling

Alexandra came to visit baby George shortly after her mother-in-law had left. Natalya told the Tsarina about the contrast between how the Dowager Empress had reacted to George's birth compared to the lack of attention she'd always shown Michaela, and how sad it made her feel for Michaela.

"Well, it's actually perfectly understandable, considering that no one knows for sure that Michaela is really Michael's," Alexandra told her.

"But Michael loves Michaela as if he knew her to be his own beyond the shadow of a doubt," Natalya pointed out.

"Michael is a good man," Alexandra told her sister-in-law. "The Dowager Empress can be...difficult at times."

Natalya gasped with surprise.

"She's rather possessive of Nicky," Alexandra continued. "Every time we're presented to the public, Nicky is always presented first with his mother on his arm, while I always have to follow behind them, alone. It really hurts. I'm Nicky's _wife, _for God's sake. She's had _her _turn at being Tsarina."

Natalya was so shocked that Alexandra was actually confiding in her that she didn't quite know what to say.

"I do have to say that I've always admired you and wished that I could be more like you," Alexandra went on. Now Natalya was _really _shocked. "You just have this personal magnetism. People are naturally drawn to you. You're a lot like the Dowager Empress herself in that respect. The Russian people have always loved her, while they've always considered me to be cold and aloof. But they don't understand." Alexandra dropped her eyes, and Natalya thought that she looked very sad. "You see, my brother Frederick died of hemophilia when I was only a year old, and my baby sister and my mother both died of diphtheria when I was six. I've had a great deal of tragedy and loss in my life, and when Alexei, my baby, was diagnosed with hemophilia, that was simply the final straw. I care nothing at all for the fancy parties and balls that are so important to the Dowager Empress. All I care about is having my family close by and everyone being healthy and safe."

"What about Rasputin?" asked Natalya. For a long time, she'd wondered why the filthy, coarse peasant was held in such high regard by the royal family.

"He's very misunderstood as well," Alexandra said. "People misjudge him because of his appearance and mannerisms. They can't see what a holy man he is, that he was sent to us by God to save Alexei, that he's completely above reproach." Alexandra's voice had an edge to it that gave Natalya a very unsettled feeling.

* * *

June arrived, and with it, warm weather at last. Natalya enjoyed taking Michaela and George out for strolls across the palace grounds in their stroller. On the day the train carrying Nicholas and Michael arrived in St. Petersburg, she took both children along to the station.

"Papa!" Michaela shouted, running to meet Michael as soon as she saw him.

"Micky!" Michael scooped the little girl up into his arms and kissed her cheek.

"I have a baby brother now," Michaela said. "His name is George."

"I know," Michael replied. "I can't wait to meet him." His eyes fell on Natalya, who was smiling and holding baby George.

"Hello, beautiful." Softly his fingers brushed the hair back from Natalya's face, and he kissed her lips.

"Meet your son," she said proudly. Michael put Michaela down and took the baby into his arms. "Why, you're the most beautiful baby in the world," he said softly, as little George reached up to grab his nose.

* * *

That night, after making love, Michael and Natalya lay in one another's arms and talked. Natalya asked Michael how the war was progressing.

"Not very well," Michael said with a sigh. "The _Stavka _has been forced to evacuate Galicia, and our troops have been driven far inland. Lviv has also fallen to the Austrians. I greatly fear that Warsaw may be next. On the other hand, Italy's now entered the war, which I pray will make a difference."

"Oh, no! It'll be terrible if we lose Warsaw!"

"Yes, it will be," Michael agreed. He looked very serious for a moment, then suddenly grinned and ruffled Natalya's hair. "But that's for me and Nicky to worry about. You have two babies to take care of. I'm sure that's quite enough of a job."

"Misha?"

"Hm?"

"What do you think of Rasputin?"

Michael frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Alexandra seems to be completely sold on him, but I've got serious doubts about him."

Michael yawned mightily. "Let's talk about it in the morning, all right? Good night, darling."

"Good night, Misha." She lay in bed awake for quite some time after her husband had fallen asleep.


	15. Journey To Moscow

Michael was able to spend the rest of the summer in St. Petersburg. He took Natalya, Michaela, and little George back to Brasovo, and for Natalya, it seemed almost the same as the day Michael had taken her there right after their marriage.

"Is this where we live now, Mama?" asked Michaela, who was too young to remember having lived there before going to stay at the palace.

"This is our home," Natalya told her. "We were only staying at the palace because your Papa was away at war."

"I'm going to miss Nastya and the others," said Michaela.

"We'll still get to visit them from time to time," Natalya assured her.

One day in August, Natalya was sitting on the veranda holding George and watching Michaela at play when Michael came outside looking very troubled.

"Darling! What's wrong?" Natalya asked.

"It's happened." Michael's voice was almost a sob. "Warsaw has fallen to Germany."

A dark pallor fell over the family for the rest of the day. Even Michaela sensed the seriousness of the situation and played very quietly, rarely smiling.

In September, there was more news. "Nicholas has replaced Grand Duke Nicholas Nikolayevich as Commander-in-Chief of the army," Michael told Natalya.

"So he'll be away from home even more now," said Natalya. She felt sorry for Alexandra and her children and made up her mind to visit them often.

Christmas of 1915 was a lonely, dismal affair. Nicholas and Michael were once again off at war, so Natalya and the children returned to the palace to stay with the royal family.

"But it _can't _be Christmas without Papa," Michaela objected.

"I miss him too, sweetheart," Natalya told her. "But the war will soon be over, and then Papa can spend Christmas with us every year."

"I hate the war!" Michaela pouted. "Why does there even have to be a war?"

"The Germans want to take over the world and make everyone do what they want, and your Papa and Uncle Nicholas and the other men have to stop them from doing that."

"I hate the Germans!" said Michaela.

"Sweetheart, your Aunt Alexandra is half German," Natalya gently reminded her daughter.

"Well, I don't hate Aunt Alexandra, but I _do _hate all the others!"

Natalya didn't know what to say to her daughter. She herself missed Michael so dearly that there was a constant pain in her heart.

January brought the most devastating news of all. Natalya learned that her sister, Olga, had died in Moscow, and that she must travel there for the funeral.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, dear," said Alexandra. "Although I was very young, I still remember what it felt like to lose a sister."

"I can't take the children on such a long journey, alone," Natalya said hesitantly.

"They'll be fine under the care of the governesses who cared for my own children when they were little," Alexandra assured her.

Feeling as if she were leaving for a much longer time, Natalya tearfully kissed Michaela and George good-bye and boarded the train.

On the long, lonely journey to Moscow, Natalya couldn't help contrasting it with her last train ride, when she and Michael had rode from Austria to St. Petersburg right after their marriage. That trip had been a celebration, and Michael had been with her; this one was in mourning, and she was alone. As she dolefully looked out the window at the passing scenery, she couldn't stop a lone tear from trickling down her cheek.

At last the train was finally pulling into the station at Moscow, and Natalya, feeling very invisible, disembarked and began to search for a motel for the night. She finally found one with a vacancy and took a taxi there.

Although the motel was nice enough, to Natalya, who was accustomed to palace accommodations, it seemed very plain and bland, and that added to her general melancholy. Her mind went back to her brief stay with Karl and Eva in Austria. Their home had been even simpler, but they'd offered her warmth and companionship, which she sorely lacked now.

Natalya had just gotten settled in when she heard her doorbell ring. To her astonishment, she found that her visitor was a handsome, well-dressed man of just about her own age whom she'd never seen before.


	16. Dimitri Pavlovich

"Hello, Natalya. My name is Dimitri Pavlovich," the man said with a smile. "I know you don't know me, but I'm your husband's cousin."

"How do you do," said Natalya. "Please, come in."

Dimitri entered and sat on the sofa. "I was deeply saddened to hear of your loss," he told Natalya.

"Thank you," she said. "But how did you know I was here?"

"I have sources inside the palace that keep me informed of the comings and goings of the various members of the royal family," Dimitri replied. "You see, Natalya, I've been waiting for an opportunity to speak to you privately."

"Of what?" Natalya felt uneasiness tinged with just the slightest hint of fear.

"Natalya." Dimitri's voice was soft as he sat back with folded hands and looked at her earnestly. "I've loved you from afar for ever so long. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and I long to hold you in my arms."

"But...but you don't even really know me," Natalya stammered. "And besides, I'm very much in love with my husband, Michael."

"I could make you forget all about Michael, if you'd give me the chance." Dimitri looked at her with longing in his eyes and reached for her hands, but she stepped away from him, holding them protectively behind her back.

"I think...I think you'd better leave," she said timidly. "But thank you for coming by. I'm very flattered." Although uncomfortable with Dimitri's forwardness, she didn't want to seem impolite to Michael's cousin.

"Very well, then." Dimitri looked so disappointed that Natalya almost felt sorry for him. "I hope that the remainder of your stay in Moscow is a comfortable one."

Natalya felt dizzy with relief when he finally left.

Olga's funeral was the following day. Natalya's stomach churned as she entered the chapel and saw her sister's casket, surrounded by sobbing family members.

"Natalya!" Natalya turned to see her surviving sister, Vera. She was shocked to see how pale and wan Vera looked. She seemed a mere shadow of her former self. "I'm so glad you're here!"

"How have you been, Vera?" Natalya couldn't hide the concern in her voice.

"Oh, I'm all right. Don't worry about me," Vera said bravely.

"You certainly don't _look _all right," Natalya told her.

"The last few weeks have been so hard," Vera said softly.

"You should have told me!" Natalya exclaimed. "I would have come!"

"I knew that you had two babies to care for and a husband away at war," Vera replied.

Soon it was time for the service to begin. Numbly Natalya watched as the priest circled the casket sprinkling incense and chanting. It seemed to go on forever. Finally it was over with and time to return to the motel. As Natalya said good-bye to Vera, she couldn't shake the conviction that she'd never see Vera alive again.

She'd almost reached her motel room when she felt someone grab her arm, and her heart almost stopped when she realized that it was Dimitri Pavlovich.

"Give me a kiss, and I'll let you go," he said.

"No!" Natalya screamed. She tried to wrench her arm free, but Dimitri was too strong for her.

"Come on, darling. Just one kiss," he whined. Natalya felt his lips crushing her own, his hand upon her breast. Somehow she managed to break free of his grasp and ran away as fast as she could, finally collapsing by the side of the curb and bursting into sobs.

* * *

After a fearful, sleepless night in the motel, it was time for the long train ride back to St. Petersburg. Emotionally drained, Natalya slept on the train in fits and starts. At last the train was pulling into the station at St. Petersburg, and from there it was a short ride back to the palace. Natalya made her way back to her chambers as quickly as she could.

"Mama!" cried little Michaela, rushing into her mother's arms. Natalya held her little girl as if she'd never let her go, then asked for George. Never before had she been so happy to see her children.

"Darling, what's wrong?" asked Alexandra. She could tell right away that her sister-in-law was badly shaken.

"Do you know a man named Dimitri Pavlovich?" asked Natalya.

"He's Nicholas' cousin. Why?"

Natalya told Alexandra all the details of her trip to Moscow.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Alexandra gasped when she was finished. "I shall tell Nicholas as soon as possible."

Natalya wondered what Michael's reaction to the news would be. More than anything she wished that she could tell him herself what had happened.


	17. A Visit To Stavka

Over the next few weeks, Natalya took great comfort in being with her children. Michaela was a bright, active toddler who provided hours of entertainment. She tagged along after the royal children, wanting to be included in their activities, and was thrilled when one of the girls or Alexei would play with her for a few minutes. Little George was just now beginning to creep and to stand holding onto furniture. He was also teething and so tended to be a bit fussier than usual.

Easter came and went. The weather got warmer, and the snow melted. In May Nicholas and Michael returned to St. Petersburg for a brief visit.

"Misha, there's something I have to tell you," Natalya said to her husband as they cuddled in bed on Michael's first night home.

"What?"

"When I was in Moscow for Olga's funeral, this man came to see me in my motel. He said that his name was Dimitri Pavlovich and that he was your cousin. He also said that he was in love with me. I told him that I loved you, and he seemed to accept that at first, but the next day, after I came home from the funeral, he...attacked me."

Michael stiffened. "He raped you?"

"No, but he forced me to kiss him and grabbed my breast."

Michael was livid. "I'll kill him!"

"Please don't do anything to get yourself into trouble, Misha. No real harm was done...I suppose."

Michael was silent for a moment. "I'm so very sorry you had to go through that, sweetheart," he finally said, very softly.

"The worst thing about it was that I wanted so badly to be able to tell you right away, and to feel your arms around me."

"I wish with all my heart that I could have been here as well," Michael told her. "But never mind. I'm here now, and I'm just about to make you forget all about Dimitri Pavlovich." He rolled on top of her and, within seconds, had done just that.

* * *

For the next few days, things seemed almost normal again. Michael and Natalya took the children to the park, and Michael pushed Michaela in the swings while Natalya helped George learn to walk. They went for picnics and long, romantic strolls around the palace grounds.

"How I wish time could simply stand still and it would always be now," Natalya said with a contented sigh as she and Michael sat together on a bench after one such stroll.

"So do I," said Michael. "But it's all right. This war will soon be over, and we can be like this all the time."

Neither of them had any idea how wrong he was.

* * *

Nicholas and Michael soon left to return to Stavka. Summer came and went. The weather turned cooler. In September Natalya decided to journey to Stavka with the children and surprise Michael. She found him in full uniform, inspecting his troops.

"Papa!" shouted Michaela.

Michael turned, and quickly his expression of surprise turned to one of joy as he rushed to scoop the little girl up into his arms and kiss Natalya's lips.

"We wanted to surprise you," she told him.

"You did that, all right," he chuckled.

Natalya enjoyed meeting the Russian soldiers, and they all lavished attention on Michaela and George. "You're just about the same age as my little girl back home," one soldier said wistfully to Michaela. Natalya felt just a little bit sad.

One night after dinner, Natalya noticed that Michael was grimacing with pain and clutching his belly.

"What is it, darling?" she asked him.

"Oh, it's nothing," Michael said, but his wife heard the strain in his voice which belied his words. "Just a little indigestion. That's all. I'll be fine."

"That seems to happen to you a lot lately," Natalya commented worriedly.

"Oh, don't worry about me," Michael said. "I have important work to do here. I can't let little discomforts like this interfere it."

Natalya didn't say anything more, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Michael's problem was a bit more serious than indigestion and hoped that he would go to the camp physician soon.


	18. Rasputin

_A/N: Yes, I know there's no proof that Rasputin and Alexandra ever had an actual affair, but it was just too good a plot bunny to resist..._

"I have stomach ulcers," Michael glumly told his wife.

The family visited the Crimea, hoping that the change would improve Michael's health. After a couple of months of the mild climate near the Black Sea, Michael had recovered sufficiently that the family was able to return to Brasovo for Christmas.

Little did they realize how quickly their lives were about to change forever.

* * *

"Rasputin's body has been found in the Neva River," Michael told Natalya several days after Christmas. "He was killed by Felix Yusupov, Dimitri Pavlovich, and Vladimir Purishkevich at Moika Palace. They lured him there and served him poisoned sweet rolls. He ate three of them and just kept right on talking. Then Felix shot him several times, and they thought that he was dead, but then he got up and tried to run away. Finally they rolled him up in a piece of carpet, bound him, and threw him in the river. He managed to escape but drowned before he could swim to shore."

"He was full of poisoned sweet rolls and bullet wounds and still managed to fight his way free?" Natalya was incredulous.

Michael shook his head. "I couldn't believe it either when I first heard it. I always thought there was something really creepy about him, but I couldn't say anything because of Alexandra and the way she felt about him."

"Poor Alexei," said Natalya. "Now who's going to help him when he bleeds?"

"God, I don't know." Michael suddenly looked about twenty years older to Natalya. Her heart ached for him. "And that's not all."

"What else was there?" Natalya wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

"In Rasputin's final message to Alexandra, he predicted that he'd die soon. He said that if he was killed by peasants, the royal family would be safe, but if he was killed by aristocrats, Alexandra and her entire family would be dead within two years. She showed the letter to Nicky."

Michael sat in a chair and rested his elbows on his knees, covering his face with his hands. Natalya held his head to her breast and gently stroked his hair.

* * *

Natalya went to visit Alexandra and express her condolences. The other woman collapsed against her, weeping.

"I just don't know how I'll ever manage to live without him!" Alexandra sobbed, clinging to her sister-in-law. "He was such a comfort to me all those times Nicky was away at the Front. He was like my rock, my support. And Tasha..." Alexandra lowered her voice until it was almost a whisper. "All those rumors about what a great lover he was? They were true."

Natalya gasped, shocked.

"Please! Misha must not know." Alexandra grasped Natalya's hands and looked imploringly into her eyes. "You won't tell him, will you? He'd surely tell Nicky."

Natalya, still too shocked to say a word, quickly shook her head.

"You see...I know all about Nicky's precious ballerina, Mathilde Kschessinska." Alexandra's voice held a venom Natalya had rarely heard in it. "Rasputin told me about her. He knew all." Alexandra's eyes filled with tears. "Nicky's the only man I've ever loved. He was my first. I wanted ever so badly to have been his first as well..."

Natalya thought of Sergei Mamontov and Vladimir Wulfert. She knew that Michael had had women before her. Ballerinas. Recommended for use as Imperial playthings since, due to their frequent physical exams, they were thought to be less likely to be carrying sexually transmitted diseases.

Yet Alexandra, the shy, devoutly religious virgin, had left the only life she'd ever known behind to come to a new country and marry the man she loved, only to find..._poor Alexandra._

"I was devastated," Alexandra continued. "At first I accused him of lying, and he told me to ask Nicky about it. I did, and Nicky told me everything. I can't describe how painful that was for me. Ever since then, things haven't been the same between us. Every time I'm with my husband I feel the ghost of a ballerina lurking in the background. It isn't something that I can talk to Nicky about. He has no idea how I feel."

"I read all his diary entries professing his love for me. Not a word about her. Yet they were lovers for four years before he married me. _Four years."_

Natalya didn't know what to say.

"Can't you see?" Alexandra continued. "I needed him...Rasputin. Being with him took the pain away. In his arms I could forget that I had given my all and received only someone else's leftovers in return. And now he's gone...forever."

Alexandra was sobbing. Natalya felt overwhelming pity for her combined with a desperate urge to run away from the palace as fast as she could.

"Please, Tasha, you won't tell, will you?" Alexandra pleaded once again.

"I promise I won't," Natalya assured her.

* * *

"Nicky has exiled all three of Rasputin's killers," Michael told Natalya later. "Never again will you ever have to worry about Dimitri Pavlovich harassing you in any way."

Natalya barely heard what he'd said. Her mind was still burdened by the incredible secret she'd been entrusted with.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Michael asked her. "You look like you're a thousand miles away."

"Nothing." Natalya yawned. "I'm just tired. That's all."


	19. Revolution

Natalya felt guilty. She'd never had a secret from Michael before. Occasionally she debated whether to tell her husband what she knew about Rasputin and the Tsarina, but in the end she decided that she simply couldn't. If she did, it could mean the end of Nicholas and Alexandra's marriage, and she'd feel solely responsible.

In February, revolution swept the country. Strikes and street demonstrations became rampant, and many angry people carried banners protesting the war and other issues. Nicholas, still away at the Front, ordered the army to suppress the rioters.

One day Michael came home clutching his belly.

"Are the ulcers back?" Natalya asked him.

"I don't know," he said. His eyes had a glazed look. "Nicky has just stepped down as Tsar."

"I don't believe it!" Natalya gasped. Then a startling thought occurred to her. "So does that mean _you're _the Tsar now?"

"I was for a very brief time," Michael replied. "They couldn't promise that my family and I would be safe, so I abdicated as well. There is no Tsar now."

"But how will the country be run?"

"A Provisional Government has been established. The socialists have also formed their own group, the Petrograd Soviet, which shares the power."

"Provisional Government? Petrograd Soviet? I don't understand, Misha. This is all just happening too fast for me."

"If only Nicky had stayed in St. Petersburg instead of going to the Front, none of this would have happened," Michael said bitterly. "He trusted Alexandra too much with being able to manage things while he was gone, and she depended too much on Rasputin."

_In more ways than one, _Natalya wanted to add, but didn't.

One day toward the end of the month, a man dressed all in black and wearing a black hat informed Michael and Natalya that they were under house arrest.

"It's for our own protection," Michael explained to his wife after the man had left. "They're afraid that the rioters would attack us if we were to go out on the street."

"I'm scared, Misha." Natalya's eyes were filled with tears, and her voice quivered.

"No need to be afraid, darling." Michael hugged her protectively. "I won't let anything happen to you. I protected you from that brute Wulfert, and I'll protect you from anyone else who tries to hurt you."

_But who's going to protect _you? Natalya wanted to ask as she relaxed in her husband's embrace.

* * *

The most difficult thing about it turned out to be explaining the situation to the children. Michaela and George simply couldn't understand why they couldn't go for walks to the park or to visit friends anymore.

"There are dangerous men in the street, bad men who want to hurt us," Natalya told her children. "That's why we have to stay indoors all the time now."

"But why can't they just put the bad men in jail?" Michaela asked. "Then it would be safe for us to go outside again."

Natalya didn't know what to tell her daughter.


	20. Together, And Safe

**March 7, 1918**

"Your husband and Nicholas Johnson have been arrested and are being held prisoner at the Smolny Institute," Natalya's friend, Princess Putyatina, told her. Nicholas Johnson was Michael's secretary.

"On what charges?" asked Natalya.

"Crimes against the Russian people," Princess Putyatina said.

"But Michael's innocent!" Natalya protested. "He's never hurt anyone!"

"These days it's a crime just to be a member of the aristocracy," Princess Putyatina replied. "It's just like it was in the days of the French revolution just over a hundred years ago."

When Natalya next saw Michael, she couldn't believe that he was the same strong, brave man who'd rescued her from an abusive marriage just six years previously. He was pale, with disheveled hair and a haunted, helpless look in his eyes.

"Darling!" cried Natalya, rushing to him and showering him with kisses.

"Tasha," he murmured as he clung to her. He rested his head on her bosom, and she softly stroked his hair.

"How are they treating you?" she asked him.

"Not badly," he assured her. "The food's edible, and the living conditions are bearable. How are the children?"

"They're both well, except that they miss you, of course." Natalya began to weep. "Oh, Michael, it's just so lonely without you!"

"Don't cry, dearest." Michael patted her on the back soothingly. "Everything will be all right. The Bolsheviks will be conquered soon, and I'll be right back home with you and our precious children."

On March 11, Michael and his secretary were sent a thousand miles away to the remote village of Perm. Natalya, fearing for Michaela and George's safety, arranged for them to be smuggled into Denmark. With a breaking heart she kissed her children good-bye, not knowing when she'd ever see them again.

April of 1918 was the loneliest month of Natalya's life. Michael was a thousand miles away, and Michaela and George were safely sheltered in Denmark. For the first time in her life, she was completely alone. Every night she slept by herself in the bed she'd formerly shared with Michael, cuddling his pillow close to her chest and imagining that it still held a faint trace of his scent.

In May, Natalya was finally permitted to travel to Perm to join Michael. The journey took eight days by train. Natalya endured the boredom by reminding herself that each passing day brought her one day closer to seeing her beloved again.

At last the train pulled into the railroad station at Perm, where Natalya saw Michael waiting to greet her. He looked much healthier and stronger than he had the last time she'd seen him. He'd gained weight and now even had a tan. When he saw her, his grin lit up his entire face, and he held his arms out to her. She rushed into them, and he clasped her tightly to himself.

Natalya was crying again, but this time, her tears were tears of joy. Tenderly Michael kissed them away, then kissed her lips passionately. She kissed him back with equal fervor, her tongue dancing with his own.

"Where are the children?" he asked when they finally parted.

"Safe in Denmark, with their nannies," she told him.

"God, I missed you so much," he said huskily.

"I missed you too," she told him.

His passion was so obviously high that Natalya wondered whether he'd be able to contain himself until they made it back to the motel. He did, just barely. As soon as they were inside, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, where he eagerly but gently removed first her clothing, then his own.

"Oh, Michael..." she breathed. Instantly he was on top of her, his tongue once again seeking her own, his bare skin hot and moist against hers. His fingers danced against the delicate skin between her thighs, getting her ready, and then he was inside her, still stimulating her with his fingers, thrusting slowly at first, then more swiftly, then almost frantically. She cried out as she went over the edge; he followed almost immediately. Afterwards they lay silently in one another's arms, luxuriating in the ecstasy of being together again after such a long separation.

"I love you, Tasha," Michael whispered.

"I love you too, Misha." She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. "I just can't believe we're finally together...and safe."

He hugged her tightly and kissed her hair, and suddenly she was aware of nothing else but the sensation of his strong arms around her and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.


	21. Alone

Michael and Natalya shared a peaceful week in Perm, taking long walks by the river, having picnics, and simply spending quiet time together.

"It's called the Kama river," Michael told his wife. "It flows right into the Volga. In some places, it's even wider than the Volga."

"It's so beautiful and peaceful here," said Natalya. "So different from all the noise and violence of St. Petersburg."

"I wish we could stay here forever," Michael replied. Natalya looked into his eyes and saw a deep sadness there. She longed to comfort him but couldn't find the words to say.

The tranquility they had found was not to last. Within the week, an angry group of Czech soldiers advanced on Perm.

"You must return to Moscow," Michael urged his wife. "I'm trapped here. They'll kill me if I try to escape, but you're still free to travel. Save yourself, Tasha. _Please. _I couldn't bear it if anything were to happen to you."

"I _can't," _Natalya sobbed. "If I return to Moscow, I know I'll never see you again."

"You _have _to, Tasha," Michael insisted. "It breaks my heart to part with you just as I know it breaks yours, but you have to do it, Tasha. For our children. For Micky and George."

Natalya knew that he was right. "Please, Misha, before I leave you forever, can I have one last hug and kiss?"

Michael embraced her more tenderly than he ever had before. "Good-bye, Tasha, my love, my darling," he said. "Raise our children well. Tell them I'm sorry I had to go away, but I did the best I could."

"Please don't talk like that! I can't bear it!" Natalya cried.

"I love you, Tasha," Michael said. "With all my heart. Always remember that."

With a breaking heart, Natalya tore herself away from Michael and boarded the train. She waved good-bye to him until she could no longer see him.

Alone once again, Natalya prayed to St. Michael. "Please watch over my husband, your namesake, and keep him safe."

**September 1918**

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but you have tuberculosis," the prison doctor told Natalya. "I'm going to have you transferred to a nursing home for treatment."

Natalya had been imprisoned for several months. While attempting to learn of Michael's fate, she'd been arrested herself. Life in prison depressed Natalya. When she'd been under house arrest the previous year, she'd at least been in the comfort of her own home and surrounded by material possessions and, most importantly, Michael and the children had been there.

She'd been in regular touch with Michaela and George's guardians in Denmark, who assured her that both children were doing fine. She had no idea when she'd see them again, nor how to tell them about their father when she finally did.

Natalya wasn't treated unkindly in prison, but the sparse living conditions were a far cry from the luxurious lifestyle to which she'd become accustomed. Many of her fellow inmates were also members of Russia's former aristocracy, so she found herself in good company, although deprived of her home and family.

Then the coughing had begun. At first it had been merely a nuisance, which Natalya had attributed to the dampness within the prison walls. Later it had become more severe, and when Natalya found herself coughing up blood, she knew that it was time to see the prison doctor.

She was relieved by the transfer to the nursing home. The conditions there were slightly better than they'd been in prison, and she had the sympathy of the doctors and nurses, but she still missed her family very badly.


	22. England

**Spring 1919**

"My darlings!" Natalya exclaimed, hugging and kissing Michaela and George. It was the first time she'd seen her children in about a year. Michaela was now seven, and George was five. While George bore a stunning resemblance to his father, Michaela's features were more ambiguous. Natalya had long ago given up hope of ever seeing definite traces of Michael in them.

With the help of the Ukrainian consulate, Natalya had escaped from Russia disguised as a nun not long after her release from the nursing home. By ship and train she'd eventually arrived in Sussex, England, where she was staying in a rented house. As soon as she was settled, she'd sent for the children.

"Where's Papa?" asked Michaela.

"He had some business to take care of in Russia, but he'll join us soon," Natalya told her. In truth she hadn't heard from Michael since she'd said good-bye to him in Perm. She'd heard varying accounts of what his fate had been but had so far been unable to prove or disprove any of them. She still prayed daily for his safety.

It remained to have the children tutored in English so that they could attend an English-speaking school. At their ages, they had a much easier time learning the new language than did their mother. After much struggling, Natalya barely managed to learn the language well enough to carry on a conversation, while Michaela and George were fluent in it in almost no time.

One day the children were in school and Natalya was eating lunch outdoors at a cafe when she caught sight of a couple sitting at a nearby table who looked familiar. Her heart almost stopped when she realized that they were Nicholas and Alexandra. Alexandra saw her at just about the same time and smiled warmly.

In a flash Natalya had joined them.

"I'm so happy to see that you're safe!" she exclaimed. "I heard that you'd been sent to Siberia and then I never heard anything more."

"We were held captive by the Bolsheviks in the Ipatiev House until the White army, with the assistance of my cousin, King George V, rescued us and smuggled us into England," Nicholas told her.

"How are the children?" asked Natalya.

"They're fine," said Alexandra. "The girls have all finished school now, and Olga and Tatiana are both engaged. Alexei is enrolled in an English secondary school and is doing very well."

"Where's Michael?" asked Nicholas.

"I last saw him in Perm a year ago," Natalya replied. "He was being held captive there. I joined him for about a week until the situation got too dangerous and he talked me into returning to Moscow. I've heard various things about what might have happened to him, but nobody knows for sure. I'd give anything in the world to spend just another moment with him." She began to cry softly.

Alexandra placed a caring hand on her arm. "We must trust God that His will be done, as I have during Alexei's many bleeding episodes," she said.

"I pray for him every day, that God will keep him safe," said Natalya.

"I shall remember you in my prayers as well," Alexandra told her.

"I hope that everything's going well for you," said Natalya. "I remember how distraught you were when Rasputin was murdered."

"Things are much better between Nicky and me now." Alexandra smiled and clasped her husband's hand. "I finally told him about the affair I had with Rasputin because I just couldn't bear the guilt any more. I expected him to be angry, but he forgave me. He said he understood how deeply hurt I was over his affair with Mathilde and how badly I needed comfort while he was away at war. I told him that I forgave him for his affair with Mathilde as well since it happened a long time ago and he was young and it was at a time when we couldn't be together. He said that he still keeps in touch with her, and I said that I wasn't happy about that but that I wouldn't ask him to give it up."

"I'm happy that things are going well for you," said Natalya. "Now, if I could only hear word about my darling Michael..."

"Trust God. He will see you through," said Alexandra.

Natalya couldn't wait until she saw her children again.

"Guess what?" she said to Michaela and George when they got home from school. "Your Uncle Nicky and Aunt Alix and your cousins are here in England now as well!"

"Hurray!" shouted Michaela. "Can we go visit them?"

"Of course!" her mother told her.

Michaela and George had a happy reunion with their cousins. Although Olga, Tatiana, Maria, Anastasia, and Alexei were all much older than Michaela and George, the cousins had always gotten along very well.

_If only Michael were here, our happiness would be complete, _Natalya thought to herself.


	23. Together, And Free

**July 5, 1924**

Natalya and her children had been in England for five years now. Michaela was twelve, and George was ten. They were both doing very well in school. George reminded Natalya more and more of his father every day. Natalya still missed her husband dearly, but she'd become resigned to the fact that she'd never see him again.

On this hot July day, Natalya and her children were spending time together on the front lawn. Natalya and Michaela were lying on blankets in the sun trying to get a tan and George was playing basketball when a vagrant approached the house. He was filthy, with torn, dirty clothes and a scraggly beard. Natalya felt her heartbeat quicken.

"Children, I think we'd better go back inside," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

They'd almost made it back inside when the vagrant grabbed Natalya's arm, and her heart almost stopped.

"Natalya? Don't be afraid. It's me!"

It took Natalya a minute to realize why the voice sounded so familiar. When she did she felt her mind reel. _But it couldn't be! Not after all these years!_

"Michael?"

"Yes!" He whooped with joy as he snatched her up in a mad embrace. Michaela and George both came running, shouting excitedly. "Papa! Papa!"

"One at a time," Michael laughed, loosening his grip on Natalya so that he could hug first Michaela, then George.

"What on earth happened? I thought you were dead!" Natalya exclaimed.

"Long story." Michael chuckled. "Can I have something to eat first? I'm pretty hungry. I'd like a quick bath too, if you don't mind."

"Oh, of course!" Natalya exclaimed. The four of them went into the house, where Natalya hurried to draw a bath for Michael. Michaela and George waited patiently, realizing that their parents needed some time to themselves first. In the bathroom Michael shed his filthy clothing before climbing into the steaming tub. It broke Natalya's heart to see the condition his body was in. He was literally skin and bones, so thin that she could see all his ribs. Michael saw the stricken look on her face and realized the reason for it. He felt a deep tenderness for her as she helped him into the tub.

As soon as Michael was seated, Natalya grabbed a washcloth and a bar of soap and began to gently clean all the dirt and grime from his body. He sighed with contentment, closing his eyes and leaning back in the tub.

"I haven't felt this good is so long I can't remember," he said.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Natalya said softly. She was so happy she was almost crying.

"I knew that no matter what, I had to find you," Michael replied. "It was the hope of someday seeing you again that kept me going when sometimes I just felt like giving up."

After his bath, Natalya shaved Michael and found some clothes for him to wear. Luckily, some of his clothing was still in storage, although he'd lost so much weight that it hung loosely from his body. After he was dressed, she found some food for him, which he ate ravenously. When he'd finally eaten his fill, he told his wife and children his story.

"Just before midnight one night, four Bolsheviks came to the hotel where Nicholas Johnson and I were staying and forced us into a carriage and drove us deep into the woods. Then they shot us and left us for dead. For hours we lay there, bleeding and unconscious, until some peasants who were out hunting found us. They took us back to their cabin and nursed us back to health. For many months we lingered between life and death. As soon as I was healthy enough to travel, I began asking around about what had become of you and the children. I heard that you were in England and began to make my way here. It took many months, but I refused to give up until I found you."

"Words can't express how happy I am that you did," Natalya told him. By that time he was so tired that he stretched out on the sofa, put his head in Natalya's lap, and went right to sleep as she rubbed his back.

* * *

Michael was so tired that he slept for the rest of that day. At bedtime Natalya decided that rather than disturbing him, she'd just leave him to sleep on the sofa for the night and went to bed alone.

It was around two in the morning when something awakened her, and within moments, she realized that what had awakened her was Michael's lips kissing her face all over.

"Michael?" she asked sleepily.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?" He chuckled softly.

"Michael!" Immediately her arms went around his neck and held him tightly. He kissed her deeply and passionately, and she returned his fervor. Then his hands were all over her body, and soon they were making love for the first time in six years. Afterwards, Natalya cried tears of joy while Michael held and kissed her.

"After all this time, we're together again at last," he whispered.

"Together, and free," she agreed.

"I love you, darling," Michael said. "I thought I'd never be able to say those words again." His voice caught in his throat.

"I love you too, sweetheart, so very much," Natalya replied.

Within minutes she was asleep, and he lay there thinking how very nice the warmth of her head on his shoulder felt until eventually he drifted off to sleep as well.


	24. Echoes From The Past

_A/N: Bone marrow transplants weren't actually available until the nineteen fifties, but for the sake of this story's plot I'm pretending they were available much earlier._

After what they'd been through, life in England seemed like heaven on earth for Michael and Natalya. It rained a lot, but the winters were milder than those in Russia had been, and the scenery was picturesque. Best of all, for the very first time in their lives, they knew what it was like to be just ordinary people living ordinary lives, with no fear of their world being suddenly turned upside down.

Michaela grew to be a tall, graceful beauty of sixteen who strongly resembled her mother, so much so that people sometimes got them confused. At fourteen, George looked just like a younger version of his father.

One day Natalya received a very disquieting telephone call.

"My name is Valya, and I'm Vladimir Wulfert's sister," the woman said. Natalya was shocked. Why on earth would Vladimir's sister contact her after all this time?

"I'm calling because I need your help," Valya continued. "My daughter, Yulia, is desperately ill with leukemia and needs a bone marrow transplant to save her life. I know that you were married to Vladimir for a brief time, and if you and he had any children together, they are Yulia's cousins, and their bone marrow may possibly be compatible with hers."

Natalya was still too shocked to say anything. She felt sorry for Valya but didn't know how to answer her. She'd never told Michaela that there was a chance that Michael might not be her biological father. She'd never anticipated that there would be any reason for the girl to know.

"Bone marrow donation is completely safe," Valya continued. "There would be absolutely no risk at all to your child's health, and it might very well save the life of mine."

"I have a daughter who was born almost exactly nine months after Vladimir's death," Natalya finally admitted. "As I remarried less than a month after I became a widow, I've never known for sure which man is my daughter's biological father."

"There's a test she can take to determine whether her bone marrow is compatible with Yulia's," Valya told her.

"Would this test tell for sure whether or not my daughter is Yulia's cousin?"

"No," said Valya. "But two people who are closely related are much more likely to have compatible bone marrow than two unrelated people are."

"So, in other words, if Micky's bone marrow is compatible with Yulia's, that makes it highly likely, but not absolutely certain, that they're cousins."

"That's correct. Please, Natalya, I know it's a lot to ask, but you're my last hope. None of the other family members are compatible."

Natalya could think of nothing else all day. For all of Michaela's life she'd wondered which of her husbands had been the girl's biological father. Now there was a way to almost certainly learn the truth, yet every time Natalya thought about it, she felt anxious. What if Micky's bone marrow _did _turn out to be compatible with Yulia's? It would mean that Micky was almost certainly Vladimir's biological daughter, and Natalya wasn't at all sure that she could bear to know that.

"What is it, Tasha?" Michael asked that evening as they were relaxing together in the den. Natalya told him of the phone conversation she'd had that day with Valya.

"So, what's the problem?" Michael asked when she'd finished. "If Micky's bone marrow is compatible with this girl's, it gives her the chance to save a life."

"But can't you see?" asked Natalya. "If Micky's bone marrow is compatible with Yulia's, then that means she's almost certainly Vladimir's biological daughter."

"You know that's never made any difference to me," said Michael. "I've always loved her just as if I knew for sure that she was mine."

"I know that, and I appreciate it," Natalya said. "But I've never told Micky about it. I suppose I should have."

"I never thought it mattered," said Michael. "In my wildest dreams I never imagined something like this might come up."

"Neither did I," Natalya said. "But if we're going to ask her to be a bone marrow donor, we'll obviously have to tell her why."

"We'll tell her together," Michael offered, taking Natalya's hand and squeezing it.

As if on cue, Michaela walked into the den less than five minutes later.

"Sit down, Micky," said Michael. "There's something we need to talk to you about."


	25. Telling Michaela

"Am I in trouble?" Michaela looked frightened.

"Oh, no! Nothing like that at all," Michael quickly assured her. "We just need to tell you something important."

"What is it?" Michaela was instantly concerned.

"Before I was married to your father, I was married to another man," Natalya began. "My first husband beat me. Your father rescued me from that situation, and then we fell in love and got married. Right after that, I found out I was pregnant with you. We were thrilled, but the pregnancy happened so early in our marriage that I couldn't be sure whether I'd conceived by my first husband or by my second, so there's a possibility that my first husband may actually be your biological father."

Michaela's eyes grew wide. "Is it true?" she asked Michael.

"It's never made any difference in the way I feel about you," Michael told her. "I've always loved you just the same as if I knew for certain that you were my own."

"No!" Michaela screamed, jumping up and dashing to her bedroom, where she threw herself across the bed and burst into sobs. Michael sat on the side of the bed and gathered her into his arms. He rocked and shushed her as if she were a baby.

"Oh, Papa, it _can't _be true!" Michaela moaned, clinging to him. "Please say you really are my Papa!"

"Of _course _I'm really your Papa, Micky," said Michael. "Nothing's ever going to change that."

Michaela's sobs subsided.

"Listen, Micky, the reason we've told you this is that there's a chance you may be able to save another girl's life," Michael told her.

"What do you mean?"

"Your mother's first husband was a man named Vladimir Wulfert. He has a sister named Valya, and Valya has a daughter named Yulia. Yulia has leukemia and needs a bone marrow transplant. If your bone marrow is compatible with hers, then you may be able to save her life."

Michaela shook her head uncomprehendingly. "But why would it have to be me?"

"You're Yulia's last hope. None of her other family members has bone marrow compatible with hers."

Michaela just sat there for a long time, her brain reeling with all the new information she'd just received.

"We won't force you to have your bone marrow tested, of course," Michael told her. "But if it were me who was in a position to possibly save another life, I'd have the testing done. I almost died, Micky. Lying helpless with my life's blood pouring out from my bullet wounds, I thought that I was definitely going to die. That experience made me realize how very precious life is, not only my own, but that of others as well."

"So if I had my bone marrow tested, and it turned out to be compatible with Yulia's, that would mean that I'm related to her instead of you?"

Michael searched for the right words. "It wouldn't mean that you are definitely related to her, but it would increase the probability that you are. But that doesn't really matter. What does matter is that if your bone marrow is compatible with hers, then you can possibly save her life."

But Michaela was already shaking her head. "No...no..."

"I know this is really sudden," Michael said. "And you don't have to give us an answer right away. But I _would _like for you to at least think about it, all right? If you could save Yulia's life, that would be a wonderful thing."

Michael and Natalya went to their own bedroom to get ready for bed.

"You did a wonderful job of explaining it all to her," Natalya told her husband. "I doubt I could have done half as well."

"I feel really bad for having had to tell her those things," Michael replied. "I could see how shattered she was, and I likely would have been as well if I'd been in her place."

"If only there were some way she could have been spared," said Natalya.

"If Yulia were to die, could we have lived with ourselves if we hadn't told her?"

"But Yulia may die anyway," Natalya pointed out. "Even if Micky's bone marrow _is _compatible with hers and she has the transplant, she may die anyway."

"But at least we would have known that we did everything we could to save her."

Michael lay back in bed and held Natalya in his arms, and she soon felt very drowsy. She thought of all the years of wondering about her daughter's true paternity, of the special bond that had always existed between Michael and Michaela, of the pitiful way Michaela had cried out to Michael. _Please say you really are my Papa..._

As sleep overtook her, Natalya's final thoughts were of how very much she loved her husband.


	26. Michaela's Dilemma

At the breakfast table the following morning, Michael and Natalya could see that Michaela's eyes were red and puffy from crying.

Natalya reached to take her daughter's hand, but Natalya glared at her and pulled her hand away. "You should have told me a long time ago," she muttered angrily.

"What's going on?" asked George.

"I might not really be your sister," Michaela told him.

"But of _course _you're really my sister, silly!" George laughed. Michaela didn't crack a smile. George looked at his parents, bewildered. "What's she talking about?"

"Before I was married to your father, I was married to another man," Natalya explained. "My first husband might be Micky's biological father."

George's mouth dropped open in shock. Michaela stalked away from the table, leaving her breakfast unfinished.

"She's right. You _should _have told her before now," said George.

* * *

"How was school today, sweetheart?" Natalya asked Michaela that evening when she and George came home from school.

"I don't even know who I am anymore," Michaela mumbled. She went to her bedroom, slammed the door, and didn't emerge again until dinnertime, her eyes once more red and puffy from crying.

She pushed the food around on her plate idly, her mind obviously a million miles away.

"How about if I take you out for ice cream after dinner?" Michael suggested to Michaela. She smiled for the first time that day.

"Me too?" George asked hopefully.

Michael shook his head. "This time's strictly a father/daughter adventure. I'll do something special with you another time."

After dinner, Michael drove Michaela to their favorite ice cream parlor.

"Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?" Michaela asked when they were seated.

"Because I love you." Michael smiled. Michaela gave him a wary look. "And because I know you've had a very rough couple of days, and I wanted to cheer you up."

"Ice cream doesn't suddenly make it all right again," said Michaela.

"I know that, sweetheart." Michael's eyes were full of compassion as he gazed into hers. "I'm so sorry, honey. I know what a big shock this is to you."

Michaela stared at the tabletop. "I don't want to lose you." Her voice was choked with sobs.

"Micky, that's one thing that's _never _going to happen," Michael said firmly. "No matter what happens, you'll _never _lose me. Never ever."

"Oh, Papa." Michaela sobbed, and Michael held her and comforted her. She seemed almost happy on the drive back home.

* * *

Things seemed almost normal for several days. Then one evening, Natalya asked Michaela whether or not she'd made a decision about the bone marrow test.

"I'm scared," Michaela replied in a small voice.

"Scared of what?" asked Michael, who was sitting on the sofa beside his wife.

Michaela looked anguished. "Does it mean that I'm a terribly evil person if I desperately hope that my bone marrow _isn't _compatible with Yulia's?"

"No," said Michael. "But that wouldn't prove anything one way or the other. None of Yulia's known blood relatives have compatible bone marrow, either."

"You're right." Michaela sighed, crossed her arms, and looked at the floor. "And she'll definitely die if I don't do this?"

"Her options have just about run out," Michael said, very gently.

"I suppose I'll do it, then," Michaela said reluctantly.

"We'll go with you if you want, sweetheart," Natalya offered.

* * *

The three of them went to the clinic the following day. Michael and Natalya waited while Michaela was taken back for the procedure. She returned looking drained.

"Did everything go all right, honey?" Natalya asked anxiously.

"I guess so." Michaela sighed. "There's no going back now, is there?"

"It's going to be all right, sweetheart." Michael embraced the girl. "Everything's going to be just fine."

They went back home to await the results. They didn't hear anything for several days. At last the phone rang. It was the clinic. Natalya picked the receiver up on the first ring.

"We have the results of your daughter's bone marrow test," the receptionist told her.


	27. Saving Yulia

Natalya listened calmly to the woman's words, then hung the receiver up. For the rest of the day, she struggled to find the right words to use to tell Michaela the news when she got home from school.

"Good news, sweetheart," she said gently when her daughter walked into the house that afternoon. "You have a chance to save Yulia's life."

"The bone marrow was a match," Michaela said hollowly. Natalya nodded.

"Oh, Mama!" Natalya held her daughter as she sobbed.

"What's wrong?" George appeared, looking deeply concerned. For the first time, his strong resemblance to Michael sent a knife through Natalya's heart. Having always been a source of comfort and pride to her before, today it only seemed to emphasize her daughter's agony.

"Micky just received some news that's both happy and sad at the same time," Natalya told her son.

"How could it be both happy and sad?" asked George.

"Micky's bone marrow matches Yulia's. That means that she may be able to save Yulia's life, but on the other hand, it greatly increases the chance that she and Yulia are cousins, which would mean that your father isn't Michaela's biological father."

"Well, that doesn't matter to me," said George. "I don't care what kind of bone marrow you have, Micky. You're still my sister, and you always will be."

Michaela silently hugged George, and he hugged her back.

When Michael returned home from work and saw Michaela's red-rimmed eyes, he immediately knew what had happened. He was silent all through dinner, and after dinner, he held his arms out to Michaela, and she went into them. He held her tightly.

"I love you, Micky. I realize how hard this is for you, and I just want you to know how proud I am of you and how glad I am that you're my daughter."

"Can I still call you Papa?" asked Michaela.

"Of course!" Michael laughed. "You always have before. Why shouldn't you now?"

* * *

The day the procedure was scheduled to take place arrived. Michael, Natalya, and Michaela met Valya and Yulia at the clinic. Yulia was a slight, slender girl with big blue eyes and dark blonde hair. She and Michaela bore no resemblance to one another at all that Natalya could see.

"My daughter and I don't know how to thank you," Valya said to Michaela.

"If I'd refused and she'd died, I don't think I could have lived with myself," Michaela replied.

After the procedure was finished, Michaela emerged looking very tired.

"Why don't you come home and rest for a few hours," Michael suggested to her. "This evening I'll take us all out to dinner to celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" Michaela asked tiredly.

"You, of course! The unselfish choice you made to submit to the bone marrow test so that you could help Yulia. The fact that Yulia has a real chance of recovery now, thanks to you."

"If he were here, do you think he'd be proud of me?" asked Michaela.

Michael gave a heavy sigh. To Michaela his eyes looked very sad. "I don't think you should worry about that, Micky. He made his choices in life and had to accept the consequences, but you're a totally different person from him, a sweet, loving, intelligent, kind, sensitive, _precious _person."

Michaela saw the tears in Michael's eyes and felt guilty. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," she said.

"There's nothing for you to apologize for," Michael told her. "You haven't done anything wrong."

Neither of them said anything more on the way home.

* * *

Yulia's health improved dramatically after the bone marrow transplant. Within weeks she was able to resume most of her previous activities and even returned to school. Michaela and Yulia became very close friends, and Michaela began to spend more and more time at Yulia's house.

"I feel as if we're losing her," Natalya told Michael one evening as they were sitting together on the front porch swing.

"So do I," said Michael. "But what can we do? If we tried to force her to stay home more, she'd only resent us."

"I suppose I should be happy that she was able to save Yulia's life, and that she and Yulia have become such good friends, and I _am, _but..." Her voice trailed off.

"How about if we go on a nice long trip, just me, you, Michaela, and George," Michael suggested. "That would give us plenty of time to re-connect with each other."

"That's a marvelous idea!" Natalya exclaimed. "Maybe some time together is all we really need for things to get back to normal again."

"I sure hope you're right," said Michael.


	28. Anastasia's Fear

"I've always wondered what it would be like to visit America!" Michaela exclaimed when she heard the news. "I'll ask Aunt Valya and Yulia. Maybe they can come along too!"

Michael and Natalya looked at one another silently.

"Honey...we really wanted to make this a family trip," Natalya said gently.

"But Aunt Valya and Yulia _are _my family!" Michaela exclaimed. "At least they _might _be...they _probably _are."

"What your mother means, sweetheart, is that this trip is just for the four of us, me, you, your mother, and George," Michael explained.

"But why? I thought you liked Aunt Valya and Yulia."

"It isn't that we don't like them," said Natalya. "It's just that..."

"You see, Micky, your mother and I feel that this whole business with the bone marrow test and its results has been incredibly stressful for all of us." Michael gently touched Michaela's arm, and she saw the pain in his eyes. "I really miss the warm, close relationship the four of us used to have, and I'm hoping that by going away on vacation together, we can gain back what we've lost."

"But that would be such a long time without seeing Aunt Valya and Yulia." Michaela looked thoughtful. "On the other hand, I'd hate to pass up a chance to see America, and I can always send postcards back to them."

"It's as if she considers _them _to be her family, not us," Michael said later to Natalya, when they were alone. "She certainly sounded more concerned with seeing America and sending postcards back to them than with spending time with us."

"I think it's simply that Valya and Yulia are understandably grateful to her for saving Yulia's life, and she basks in the attention they are showing her. I think that over time it'll level off, and things will be more back to normal again," Natalya assured him.

"I just can't shake the feeling that we're losing her, that perhaps we've even already lost her." Michael sounded as if he were about to cry. Just then the phone rang.

"It's Nicky," Alexandra said tearfully. "He's had a massive stroke, and he's in a coma. The doctors don't know whether or not he'll ever wake up."

"We'll be there right away," said Natalya, hanging the receiver up. "Your brother had a stroke," she told Michael.

The family left for the hospital immediately. They arrived to find Alexandra in tears, being comforted by her children. Anastasia saw Michaela and rushed to hug her. Although she was eleven years older, Anastasia had always been very close to Michaela.

"Oh, Micky," what if Papa should die? I don't think that I could bear it!" Anastasia sobbed.

"I'll pray to the Virgin for his recovery," Michaela assured her.

"Your father was missing for six years, Micky. You thought that he was dead. What was it like to think that you might never see your father alive again?"

"Oh, Nastya, it was horrible!" Michaela replied. "And that was when I thought that he was definitely and for sure my father."

Anastasia was bewildered. "But Uncle Misha _is _your father! What on earth are you talking about?"

Michaela told her the whole story, of Valya calling her mother and telling of Yulia's plight, of the bone marrow test and its result, of the aftermath.

"I feel like I don't really belong in this family anymore, like I'm some kind of outcast," she said. "But when I go to visit Aunt Valya and Yulia, I feel like I belong there, like _they're _my family now."

"Oh, Micky," said Anastasia. "Of _course _you're still part of my family! Of _course _you belong here! I've known you since you were born, and you're still the same person you've always been. You can't help it that Aunt Tasha was married before, and that your bone marrow is compatible with this other girl's."

"Papa and Mama, and George too, keep telling me that, but it just doesn't seem to make any difference in the way I feel."

Anastasia sighed. "Well, if I _do _lose my father, I suppose we'll both be in the same boat, then."

"I hope Uncle Nicky doesn't die," said Michaela. "Even if he _isn't _really my uncle, I _do _still care about him."


	29. Uncle Nicky

After several anxiety-ridden days, the former Tsar finally regained consciousness, but he was paralyzed on one side of his body. The doctors planned to start him on physical therapy soon. In the meantime, all the family members were allowed to visit him one at a time.

"Please, please don't tell your father that I may not really be his niece," Michaela begged Anastasia.

"Of course I won't, if you don't want me to," Anastasia replied. "Although I'm sure it wouldn't make a bit of difference in how he feels about you."

Michaela called Valya and Yulia right away to tell them the news.

"Uncle Nicky finally woke up," she told Valya when she answered the phone.

"That's wonderful," said Valya. "I'm so glad to hear that."

"I got to go and and see him for about five minutes," Michaela continued. "I didn't say anything at all to him about you and Yulia and the bone marrow transplant. He still thinks I'm really and for sure his niece."

Michael happened to be passing by the door at that moment and overheard Michaela's end of the conversation. Her words were like a knife through his heart, yet he knew that there was nothing more he or anyone else could say to Michaela to alleviate her feelings of rejection and isolation.

"Perhaps time will help soften the blow for her," Natalya suggested when Michael told her what Michaela had said. "At least she's genuinely concerned about Nicky, and she still has a warm, loving relationship with Alexei and the former grand duchesses, especially Anastasia."

"Right now she needs all the love and support this family can give her," said Michael. "Of course right now the focus has to be on Nicky, since he's in such serious condition, but it's important that Micky isn't neglected either."

"Sometimes I almost feel as if it's a competition between us and Valya and Yulia for Micky's affection," said Natalya.

"It shouldn't be that way," Michael said angrily. "We're the ones who raised her, who took care of her for her entire life. She only just met Valya and Yulia, and it isn't even known for certain that she's related to them."

"Well, whether we like it or not, it looks as if they're going to be an important part of her life from now on, so we may as well make the best of it," Natalya replied.

* * *

Eventually Nicholas was sent home from the hospital in a wheelchair. He was to receive physical therapy three times a week. The physical therapist was a good-looking man named Trevor who was in his mid fifties. Alexandra felt an unfamiliar stirring in her breast as he shook her hand.

"It simply breaks my heart to see Nicky like this," she told him. "He's always been so full of life, so full of vigor. It's as if he's merely a shell of the man he used to be."

"I know exactly how you feel," said Trevor. "I just lost my wife of thirty years only a little over six months ago to cancer. I remember watching her go from the vibrant woman she once was to the woman she was at the end. It was just like many small deaths over time leading up to the actual death at the end, but it isn't going to be that was for your Nicky. He's going to get better, and some day he's going to walk again, even if it means with the assistance of a walker or cane."

As she gazed into his clear blue eyes, Trevor's words filled Alexandra's heart with hope.


	30. The Little Grey Wolf

Slowly but surely, Nicholas did become stronger. As Trevor had predicted, he was soon taking steps on his own with the aid of a walker.

"I don't know what I can do to show my appreciation for what you've done for Nicky...for us," Alexandra told him after Nicholas' final physical therapy session.

"I was only doing my job," Trevor said modestly. "The real credit goes to Nicholas. He's the one who worked so hard to get where he is today."

"Perhaps you'll join us for dinner sometime," Alexandra, unable to bear the thought of never seeing him again, said.

"I would be honored," Trevor said with a smile.

As Nicholas was well on his way to recovery, Michael and Natalya were at last able to resume their vacation plans.

"My mother and...her husband, and George and I, are going to America for the summer," Michaela told Valya and Yulia. She felt hesitant about referring to Michael as her father when speaking to them, as if that would somehow sound disloyal. "I would invite you to come along as well, but my mother...my mother says she wants it to be just the four of us. I'm going to miss you, but I'll write and send postcards."

"I hope you have a wonderful time, darling," said Valya. "It'll be good for you to spend some time alone with your family. I know that you've come to care deeply for us, as we have for you, but it's nice to spend time with your real family as well."

"But I thought you and Yulia _were _my real family."

Valya laughed. "Darling, whether or not you really are my biological niece and Yulia's biological cousin, we'll always be grateful to you for what you did for her, and you'll always mean a lot to us. But Michael and Natalya have known you and taken care of you for your entire life. They've raised you to become the person you are today. They're your 'real' family, Michaela."

"I never thought of it that way before!" Michaela exclaimed.

* * *

It was very late evening on the night before the family was to depart. Michaela loved this time of day. When she and George had been little, they'd sometimes had contests to see who could spot the first star the soonest. This evening, George was saying good-bye to his best friend, and Michaela was outside alone. Looking up into the darkening sky, she began to sing.

_Baby, baby, rock-a-bye  
On the edge you mustn't lie  
Or the little grey wolf will come  
And will nip you on the tum..._

A masculine voice had joined Michaela's for the last couple of lines, and Michaela, startled, turned to see Michael standing a few feet away.

"You used to sing that to me when I was a little girl and couldn't get to sleep," she said. "Do you remember?"

He nodded, smiling fondly. "What a bright, lively little girl you used to be! How well I remember the antics you used to pull, the scrapes you would get into, and look at you now! What a beautiful young woman you've grown up to be! So like your mother!"

Suddenly there was a lump in her throat. "I love you, Papa."

Instantly his arms were around her, holding her, embracing her. "I love you too, Micky."

"Always and forever," she whispered.

"Always and forever," he repeated.

They stood like that for a long time, she basking in the assurance of his love, he in the consolation that a confused and frightened child had found peace at last.

_A/N: Many thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed this story! :)_


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